A Pair of Souls
by the-brightest-fell
Summary: AU The land of Adalon once again finds its nations on the brink of war and the Hunt of Souls is not helping matters. Prince Soul "Eater" Evans is forced to participate in the ghastly event and happens to capture the prize, the unusual and mysterious Maka Albarn. They soon discover a threat to the land of Adalon. Can Soul, Maka, and friends stop its descent into darkness?
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: **Hey guys! Just letting you know I am new to fan fiction, though not necessarily writing, but was inspired to do an AU Soul Eater story. I've already begun plotting the entire story out, so just letting you know that though, on account of my crazy schedule, I may be slow to update, updates shall come! The story may be a little too far-fetched for some tastes, but hey, it seemed fun enough to write. Also, though I am going to do my very very best to keep the characters true to their personalities, they may end up a little OOC as they will be going through certain situations, but I'm hoping to keep them true to their core. So, with that out of the way...please enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I own absolutely nothing that deals with Soul Eater, believe me if I did I would totally be partying it up right now and Soul and Maka would already have confessed their undying love for one another!...But this hasn't happened so once again I say, I don't got it. The only thing that's mine is the lovely land of Adalon, the plot, and any other weird characters/creatures I decide to throw in. Also, the image that I put for this story is NOT mine, but was created by the amazing Eireen from deviantart. All I did was add the title of the story to it.

* * *

Prologue

**A Poem of the Life of Adalon**

_Some say the world was borne from fire,_

_While others claime ice._

_Should each nation follow theire own desires,_

_Then it shall surely perish in vice._

_The Seers of Corintholl,_

_Who praise perfection and the end;_

_Care not for what must fall_

_As long as they ascend._

_The Assassins blessed by Stars,_

_Kill everything in theire path._

_Heart and soule are buried far_

_Underneathe armours of wrath._

_The Marksmen sons of York_

_Never back down from a fight._

_Greedy faces stuffed of pork,_

_Burn villages in the night._

_The Healer children from the islande,_

_Though helpful, gentle, and kind,_

_Have a darkness branded on them_

_That slowly leaves them blinde._

_The Eaters spat from the Inferno_

_Enjoy theire many hunts._

_They quickly slice down any foe_

_With madness at theire fronts._

_And if these nations continue_

_On the paths that are at hand,_

_Then there will be no way to_

_Save this god-forsaken land._

_But if eache body puts forth upon_

_The time—a pair of soules;_

_The resonators of Adalon_

_May be able to keep the world whole._

Excerpt from _The Book of Eibon: A Study of the Land of Adalon_


	2. The Hunters Shall Bear No Prize

Chapter 1- The Hunters Shall Bear No Prize

_The Eaters spat from the Inferno_

_Enjoy theire many hunts._

_They quickly slice down any foe_

_With madness at theire fronts_.

"_The Infernodants, I have discovered, are both a unique and yet repulsive people. They came from the ashy, volcanic lands of the North and, were I not a well-educated scholar, I would assume from the appearance of the royal family that they were of a demonic nature. Given the gift of creating music that would surely rival even that of Heaven, it is shameful that it should not be recognized because of their despicable, devious, and atrocious actions. _

_Hunts occur rather frequently in the nation of Inferno, the most horrid being that of the Hunt of Souls, where those born as Eaters are permitted to roam the peaceful land of Adalon with the intent of consuming or possibly binding the souls of their chosen prey: ninety-nine females captured as slaves and one "special prize."_

_I have seen numerous occasions where the "special prize" is the daughter of some lord of another nation, other times it is a young, unpredictable witch or other anomaly, such as a female with weapon's blood. But on most accounts the "special prize" is simply an extraordinarily beautiful virgin. The significance of said "prize" is that _it _is what determines the ending of the hunt. The winner is not the Eater who has consumed the most souls or bound the most number of attractive female slaves, but rather the one who has conquered that supposed "prize." _

_It is my belief, however, that despite the wondrous power, wealth, and unity of the Infernodants, they eventually will fall, along with all the other nations, as the prophecy of Adalon suggests; although the more I study and interact with them the more I believe it is the madness the Infernodants encourage that will cause their personal downfall. In the coming war and darkness, I fear that even the greatest hunters in Inferno will bear no prize."_

Excerpt of "The Eaters of Inferno" from _The Book of Eibon_

* * *

Soul was not looking forward to "becoming a man." At least, not in the Infernodant sense of the phrase. He sat in his room, nervously fidgeting and tugging the hem of his crimson and gold tunic, and wondered how long he could hide away before his mother noticed his disappearance.

In complete honesty, Soul had been dreading this day, the day of his twentieth year, since he was a child. That dread had broken and swept over him, drowning him, like water from a dam on the day he learned that he had been born an Eater. In Inferno, being an Eater meant that you were strong, powerful, and destined to get whatever the hell you wanted, a logical assumption once the fact that Eaters could manipulate, bind, or consume souls was considered. But to Soul, it meant that he was a monster. He had known that something was…odd with him when he was younger; sometimes fighting off strange, intense cravings for something he couldn't quite define. He assumed that it was simply another thing wrong with him. It wasn't until a couple of months ago at a peace negotiation in the palace at Death City that the Evans were informed of their youngest son's birthright. Lord Mortis himself was the one who so graciously confirmed it.

'**Soulomon, pay attention. With Wesleyan absent, it is your duty to act as Prince of Inferno.' The stern, grating snarl of his father, King Reumon, buzzed in his already ringing ears. **

**Soul didn't know **_**what **_**exactly was wrong, but he did not feel like sitting around, drinking diluted spirits, and pretending to make peace with the other nations in Adalon. In fact, he didn't even feel like attempting to behave for his parent's approval. So, he merely grunted in response. As expected, his father launched into a loud, heated preaching of the responsibilities of a Prince of Inferno, the majesty of the Evans household, and a continuous listing of how Soul constantly ruined both of these sacred duties. Most of this onslaught of disgust, thankfully, fell on Soul's steadily deafening ears. **

**Suddenly, his body jerked, hardening in that brief second. Muscles and tendons popped and strained against whatever force was setting it off this time. That desire to heat his hardened limbs, to stretch and flatten and sharpen them until they were no longer skin and bone but something else entirely swept over him in another shiver as well as the hunger.**

_**It's happening again!**_

**King Reumon continued yelling, oblivious to the physical changes passing over his normally unresponsive son. He did not notice how with each well delivered verbal strike Soul's hand would clench the table in a feeble attempt to restrain the limb from forming a weapon and slashing his father's throat. The prince had felt this feeling before. Numerous times. All that was required was self-control, patience, and some obscure, unrelated distraction from the crazed bloodlust of weapon's blood flowing through his soul. **

**After a time, his father's speech ended in the usual, 'Oh, how I wish Wesleyan were here,' and soon after the bloodlust itself began to dull, though the…want for that distant, unattainable and unknown thing that accompanied it still clung to Soul's tired being.**

**It was then that Lord Mortis, proclaimed god and peacekeeper of Adalon, opened the study door, his chosen weapon, a red haired man able to sprout smoky blades, at his side armed for battle. Both seemed surprised to find a seemingly bored Prince Soulomon and an enraged King Reumon. **

'**My Lord! What is the meaning of this?' He shouted, immediately drawing his own blackened Inferno blade in response to the bladed weapon across from him. 'Are we not here on terms of trust and peace?' Soul noted absently that despite the King's questioning statements, his eyes had that familiar glaze in them that secretly hoped for any excuse to attack and hunt. **

**The supposed god tilted his head to the side, masked face allowing no emotion to be seen, before he calmly raised a hand in a gesture of safety and compliance to the King and the weapon. The red-haired man instantly released his weapon form, blades softening and sinking back into the skin they came from, and reluctantly, at Lord Mortis' insistence, withdrew from the room. The door shut with a definite and ominous lock.**

**The cloaked being drifted forward slowly to the defensive King and his stoic son's side without whispering a word, stopping his progression when the outstretched tip of King Reumon's black sword brushed against his dark attire. An intense moment passed as the Infernodant continued to hold his weapon in position against the god's body before the madness in his eyes was dragged back down into crimson depths and the weapon was sheathed. Only then did Lord Mortis speak. **

'**Forgive me, King Reumon of Inferno, the hunters of Adalon's land, for I did not mean to instigate such a rude and disrespectful greeting. I was merely shocked at the certain…wavelength I sensed in this room. I feared that some intruder had entered this haven of equality in the hopes of disrupting our future discussions of tranquility and trade.' At this comment, the royal Infernodant raised an eyebrow in confusion and disgust, but remained silent. 'But, as soon as I entered and saw that it was simply you and your son, I understood the situation. Once again I apologize and ask that you continue to stay here in Death City for the negotiations.'**

**Soul knew his father well. He would pretend to be offended so that Lord Mortis would be forced to cater immediately to Inferno's needs in order to prevent possible secession from the already fragile union of Adalon's five nations. **

**The King smirked lightly, eyes aglow at this new turn of events. He could sense the beginnings of a political hunt. He kept his tone angry, nose upturned in apparent offense. 'Though grateful for the apology, my Lord, I am still uncertain as to how someone such as **_**yourself**_** could make such a mistake. Am I a cuckold to question your supposed means of entrance upon Inferno's private affairs that my son and I were discussing?' He ended with a light sneer. **

**Lord Mortis was not convinced, not even for a second, that the Infernodant leader was offended. Spineless, gullible gods did not keep rocky, precarious lands like Adalon intact. 'I understand your confusion, so shall I detail my previous explanation? I sensed a disturbing wavelength that caused me to react prematurely. That disturbing wavelength was in this room and I did not have a name for the unusual fluctuation until I entered this room and saw your son.' **

**This brief phrase caused a reaction from the distanced teenager and the manipulative King, who both turned to look at Lord Mortis with slightly opened maws. Before they could each voice their concerns, the god of Adalon continued on with the words that forever changed Soul's life.**

'**Tell me, King Reumon, how many years has it been since an Eater has graced the House of Evans?'**

"Soul! Are you ready now, my darling? The guests are waiting." His mother's uncharacteristically cheerful voice called out from outside his door, pulling him from the constricting thoughts that had plagued him since that day.

The young man on the bed rolled his eyes in an unseen display of exasperation. Of course he wouldn't be dismissed anymore. Not on the night of his first hunt as a man. Take into the account that he was an Eater, and he could easily see his mother _carrying _him into the banquet hall. His parents always seemed to know what he wanted or, in this case, didn't want and went the extra mile to make sure that he didn't get his way. Tonight was no exception.

All he longed for was to remain nineteen and apart from everyone, to continue on as Soul Evans, the second born prince of Inferno who would forever be remembered a disappointment to the prestigious House of Evans, both because of his musical talents, or lack thereof, and his frequent bouts of mercy on the hunt. But now that his parents, and the whole nation of Inferno, no, the whole freaking land of Adalon, knew that he was the next Eater of the Evans line, Soul had finally been put on his parents' list of priorities. They still not-so-secretly hinted that Wesleyan, the oldest Prince and successor of the throne, should have been the one with weapon and Eater's blood, but they no longer treated Soul as if he was the scum of Adalon. And, though he never thought he would admit it, the Eater actually preferred the disdain and ridicule of his family over this newfound pride and jealously, from Wesleyan, surrounding him.

With a sigh, the Prince reluctantly arose from the bed and gingerly exited his bedroom immediately bumping into his waiting mother. He mumbled an apology when he saw that angry spark in her black eyes from his clumsiness and he wondered if she would rant at him tonight. "It's not a problem, son." She responded with that false, sickly sweet voice. Huh, guess there would be no punishments or degrading statements tonight. "Oh, my dear Soulomon," The Queen murmured, face uplifted in what appeared to be adoration for her youngest son, "you are so handsome." She sighed happily, her raven eyes fixed on some distant point, gleaming with a hint of madness, the only clue to the huntress' true feelings. "And finally on your way to being a true hunter of Inferno…" The woman shivered with excitement before remembering her son standing before her. "Well, then. Shall we?" She murmured with a hand extended towards him.

Soul took it gently, knowing he could not refuse and deciding that it was perhaps better to act as he usually did, uncaring, bored, and aloof, rather than rebel on this horrid night. "Of course, mother."

* * *

"Ladies and Gentlemen! Announcing, the Lady of Inferno, Her Majesty, Queen Valeria don Evans, and Prince Soulomon "Eater" don Evans, second son of His Lordship, King Reumon, of Inferno." There was a rapturous flood of applause as Soul gracefully led his mother down the large black marble staircase into the cavernous ballroom. At the bottom he immediately handed her off to his waiting father and began the annoying ceaseless task of shaking hands, exchanging threats, flirting with young women, receiving congratulations, and the other actions expected of a newly recognized Eater, a host of the Evans household, and a Prince of Inferno. He didn't even leave the base of the staircase until an hour after his arrival, so pursued by partygoers was he. Many of the other Eaters that would be participating in the hunt approached him, each unleashing ghoulish sharp-toothed smiles that promised plenty of trouble awaiting him once the prey was let loose and the hunt began.

Finally, Soul was able to extract himself from the swarm of people, making a beeline for the side of the room where he knew his "friends," if they could really be called that, would be waiting for him. They were heard before they were seen, Black Star's signature "YAHOO!" magnified by the cathedral-like setting and size of the dark ballroom. Just before he could cry out to them to save him a seat and a drink, his elder brother, Wesleyan, stood in his path. Malicious red eyes, scarlet like the blood of his prey which he was famous for drinking after every successful hunt, shone with sadistic glee at the flash of anger that flew across his younger brother's carefully constructed "I don't give a damn" façade.

"Evening, brother." Wesleyan smirked. "Happy Birthday by the way. Feels great to be a man now, doesn't it?"

Soul shrugged his shoulders with a nonchalant expression, though his own red eyes met the elder boy's with barely masked fury. "Honestly, it feels the same. Not as big a deal as you made it out to be. But then again, some of us are men before others, right brother?"

Wes' slight smirk disappeared and his head was angled so that Soul could glimpse the hatred that it bore while onlookers would only see him leaning down to whisper comforts into his younger brother's ear. "Watch yourself, Soul. Our parents may have some foolish infatuation for you now, but we both know that you're nothing but an idiotic _child_ who has no guts and will never achieve any glory. Your Eater status doesn't change that. Once you fail at the Hunt of Souls, which is being thrown early on your behalf I might add, the nation will see what a disgrace you are to Inferno." He leaned back, that playful smirk gracing his handsome features once more as he ruffled Soul's hair affectionately. "Enjoy your party, Soulomon. I look forward to hearing about your hunt." Wes chuckled to himself suddenly as if remembering something delightfully entertaining. "And I cannot wait to see your reaction to the prize this year. It's a grand one. I am absolutely positive you and every other Eater will have fun hunting her." And with that remark, Wesleyan disappeared into the crowd, leaving a very infuriated and curious Soul standing there alone.

_Can't wait to see my reaction? What does he mean by that? A prize is a prize, what makes this year's so special?_

"SOUL! YO, SOUL! Stop standing there like an IDIOTIC PIECE OF ASS and get over here before I drink ALL THE BOOZE WE SAVED FOR YOU!"

Soul's musings interrupted for the time, he quickly sauntered over to the table his peer convened at, hoping to silence Black Star's loud, unabashed yelling that caused the words "booze" and "ass" to echo throughout the mystic ballroom.

"I'm here, I'm here, you moron. Now shut your mouth before I shut it for you! This is a national banquet after all and my parents are going to _kill_ me if I embarrass Inferno tonight. Plus, you sound like a god-damn woman with all that shrieking going on."

The offender, a man with dark, unrealistically spiked blue hair and black fingerless gloves, waved off Soul's warning and insult. "Please, Soul. As if you could face the man who will surpass god someday. I mean, seriously," He gestured wildly at himself, a child-like grin parading across his bright face. "I'm a freaking star." Soul chose not to respond to his childhood friend, Black Star, but instead shook his head with a fleeting smile before settling into an open seat at the table and observing the scene around him.

The ballroom was expansive and monstrous, one of many in the Evans palace, with a domed, glass ceiling that any craftsmen would balk at. The whole room was clad in alternating strips of black, grey, and occasionally gold marble and stonework that aided in the night's dark mood. Chandeliers, tiered with numerous layers of finely cut jewels, glass, and golden candles, hung along the intricately crossed rafters, and strategically placed golden lamps, holding large crimson candles that burned with a strange flickering white flame, were the only sources of light. The guests of the banquet were thus cloaked in shadows, the dark colored yet well-lit room giving each the impression that though thrust into darkness they retained the ability to see inside of it.

Despite the size of the room, it was crowded with people, nobles and royals from every nation of Adalon, invited to witness one of Inferno's greatest events: the Hunt of Souls. Tables, clothed in blood red silk, invaded the space along the sides of the ballroom to the East and the West while long white silk buffet tables topped with enough food to feed not one but possibly two armies were placed to the South. The majority of the ballroom was open space reserved for the waltzing or conversing guests, but in the very center a lean black table stood, untouched and thoroughly ignored by every person that passed it by. It was here that Soul's eyes continued to find themselves directed at. No matter what else he tried to stare at, in a matter of mere seconds he would find himself gazing at the accursed object again.

He shifted in his chair, facing his body to the wall and to the people sitting at his table. To his left sat a small blonde female, with large, innocent electric blue eyes, absently munching on a piece of chocolate cake and watching with an amused smile the two persons to her left arguing. One was another blonde female with an eerily similar eye color and face structure to the woman on Soul's left, the only noticeable differences being her height and that her hair was a shade darker than the afore mentioned girl. She was gesticulating with her entire body, obviously very annoyed with whatever her debate partner had dared to say. Said partner was a lean, formally dressed man with shining amber eyes and hair as black as obsidian minus the three horizontal white stripes above his right eye. He sipped his glass of wine calmly, acting almost as if he were ignoring the animated blonde beside him. To his far left a tall, raven-haired woman clad in a shimmering white gown watched the drama with intense caring, sapphire blue eyes. Soul could see her hand clench every time the woman acted as though she were going to smack the man. And to this woman's left sat the person who was on Soul's right, Black Star.

Soul studied the people at his table, rediscovering the odd fact that his group of "friends" was far from normal. The blonde females were sisters, Patricia and Elizabeth Thompson, famous markswomen of York. The story was that they could use any object, even a scrap of fabric, as a projectile and couldn't miss a target. The male that the eldest sister, Elizabeth, was ironically mouthing off to was their employer, Kiddrik von Mortis, the Duke of Corintholl, who had hired the Thompson sisters as his bodyguards after his ascension to the throne. He had a weird sense of taste in beauty and immaculacy, though it wasn't too weird once you took into account that all Corinthollans were obsessed with perfection, as he insisted that only the symmetrical objects in life should exist. The genteel woman who was sandwiched between him and Black Star was the lovely Tusbaki Nakatsukasa, healer from the island off the West coast of Adalon called Sorne and weapon partner of Black Star. Black Star himself was an assassin casted out of the Star clan who took up residence in Inferno since Soul was a Prince of the nation. Yes, this group of young adults was quite an anomaly. You would think because of Adalon's war-ridden history and continuous balancing act between the five nations that concluded it that these children would all hate one another or be desperately tearing at one another's throats. But on the contrary, the six were on more than good terms, secretly considering the others their dearest friends and counterparts. If the sons (and daughters) of each nation could, not merely cooperate, but actually _like_ one another, it seemed possible that the nations themselves could coexist in Adalon. Of course, Soul knew that this was a possibility that was not simply ridiculously far-fetched but about as possible as all the creatures, persons, and souls murdered by the Infernodants coming back to life within the hour.

The Prince shook his head in the hopes of ridding his mind of these political thoughts and instead decided to pay attention to the still ongoing (sort of one-sided) argument between Liz and Kid.

"I am fucking serious, Kid, if you fucking touch me or my sister's breasts to 'compare their symmetry' again, I will not only shoot you with a poison dart, several arrows, and a bullet, but with a fucking cannon ball!" Liz fumed angrily, ignoring the gasps and looks she received from her disrespectful threats to the Duke.

"I still have no idea why you're so upset about this, Liz." Kid spoke softly, a somewhat bored expression on his pale face. "You should take it as a compliment that I am constantly satisfied with the symmetry between yours and Patty's bosoms since you two are lacking it on every other level. It's not as if I meant it in a sensual manner. I have never gazed upon you two in such a way."

Liz, however, did not seem to take this as a good thing. "Woah, woah, woah. Did you just…say that my sister and I are _unattractive_?" She shrieked so loudly she made Black Star's previous shouts sound like an ant's whispers.

Kid blinked with a dazed expression, snapping his fingers beside his right and left ears (for symmetry's sake) as a means of measuring if he could still hear. "What in Adalon's name are you talking about? I was merely informing you that when I grabbed your chests this afternoon, it was all in the name of symmetry, not sexual harassment." Liz chose to growl in response.

Tsubaki quickly took advantage of the lull in the argument to steer the conversation elsewhere. Namely, at Soul. "Happy Birthday, Soul! You look so handsome in those colors and this banquet is so beautiful! Are you…excited about tonight?"

This effectively ended all conversation at the table as the suddenly defensive and remote Soul was pulled into the spotlight. He attempted to play it cool, hiding his worries, insecurities, and nerves behind his legendary elusive expression. "Um…thanks, Tsubaki. And, uh, sure. I mean, it's whatever. The food's great and my parents are leaving me alone, so I guess it's an okay night."

His friends exchanged glances, wondering what their friend was thinking concerning the whole…Eater thing. They knew from previous discussions that, although an excellent fighter and a natural hunter, Soul was not a violent, sadistic hunting machine like many other Infernodants. Soul hunted to kill, yes, but not for pleasure and not for meaningless reasons. In many occasions, it was Soul's experience with delivering quick deaths that saved their asses from being slaughtered by the monstrous wild kishins that roamed Adalon. But, being an Eater was an entirely different problem altogether. Eaters were s_upposed _to do damage, whether justly or unjustly. They were born with the innate ability and hunger to take, or even destroy, souls, and the young group of adults wondered whether Soul would change and act on these new desires, or remain the good-natured person they perceived him to be. Since he had agreed to participate in the Hunt of Souls, they assumed the worst.

Patty bluntly broke the silence. "So, Soul, are you going to eat any of those girls?" The table erupted in chaos.

Tsubaki lightly gasped and covered her opened mouth with a slender pearl white hand. Kid almost choked on the drink he was sipping and spluttered, a fine mist of wine droplets falling from his lips. Liz reprimanded Patty with a slight smack on the shoulder while Black Star resolutely snarled, "Shut the fuck up, Patty!" The young woman recoiled in surprise at the reactions to her "innocent" question, throwing her hands in the air and backpedalling hastily. "Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry! I was just curious that's all…"

"Calm down, you guys." Soul said with an unusual grin. "And no harm done, Patty." He took a deep breath and stared down at his hands folded on the crimson table. "I'm…not sure, to be honest. I think…I think I'm just going to…b-bind…them…" His voice died off in a whisper as he pondered the inevitable situation he was forced to participate in. If he didn't make an effort in the hunt, he would not only be facing ridicule upon his return to Inferno and the Evans household, but possibly isolation and imprisonment, exile, or even execution. Soul knew that he would have to do _something _to the poor girls that were captured as his and the other Eaters' prey, but he had already decided he would not consume an innocent's soul. No, if worse came to worse, he would bind them to his own, and hope that he could figure out a way to free them after the hunt was deemed complete. If he got lucky, Soul would be able to find the prize of the prey first, forcing him to only bind one soul in order to win the hunt, glory, and approval from his parents. Speaking about the special prize of the hunt wasn't it almost that time…

The abrupt and harmonized donging of four grandfather clocks, one for each corner of the ballroom, rang out and silenced the dull buzz that had permeated the air since the beginning of the banquet. The entire room became so void of motion and sound that for a second Soul entertained the thought that they all simultaneously died.

But, he wasn't that lucky.

Not even a little bit.

Because that ringing was the sign that it was time for the prey for the Hunt of Souls to be presented.

The guests looked around for a bit, searching for clues to what was going to happen next. Those who sat at the tables nervously gave up their seats in favor of standing with the crowd that was steadily surrounding the central black table. Everyone knew of its importance.

Heads whipped around as a high-pitched whistle reverberated in the room, candles flickering and the glass dome vibrating. The cause of the sound was none other than Prince Wesleyan who stood at the top of the magnificent and ornate staircase, a kind, joyous smile in place. Though several meters away, Soul was not fooled by the false smile and could still imagine the sadistic gleaming of his brother's eyes.

"Dear beautiful Ladies," The dashing young Prince winked, "and dear lucky bastards accompanying them," Appreciative chuckles and giggles rippled through the excited crowd. "I would like to once again formally welcome and thank all of you for attending tonight's banquet on the behalf of Inferno and its royals, my family. Tonight, as many of you know, marks the beginning of this year's Hunt of Souls. On another note, it is also the twentieth birthday of my younger brother, Prince Soulomon, who we found out seven months ago, would, in fact, be able to participate in this legendary hunt, the greatest, esteemed hunt in Infernodant history." Wes started to clap his hands and soon enough the whole ballroom echoed with applause as Soul cautiously waved a hand.

_Why is Wes making the announcement for the prey? The coordinator of the hunt is the one who should be doing this._

As if his elder brother could hear his thoughts, Wesleyan continued, that carefree, happy smile that Soul was dying to punch off remaining in place. "Now, I'm sure many of you, especially the Eaters, are wondering why I, Prince Wesleyan, am making this highly anticipated announcement. The answer to that is that a couple months ago, after I learned that my younger brother would be participating in a hunt I could not, I decided that I wanted to have a hand in it, especially since there would be lovely women involved, and…make it special for him, let's say." There was a collective "aww" from the women in the crowd and hearty laughs from the men who were no doubt picturing just how "special" chasing after frightened young women could be. Soul clenched his fists in anger. "The prize of this year's prey was handpicked by myself with my brother in mind. Hopefully, he is a good enough hunter and gets the pleasure of…tasting the fruits of my labor." Louder laughs erupted from the smitten audience. "And without further ado, I present to you the ninety-nine prey for the two-hundredth and seventy-ninth Hunt of Souls." There was a flash of yellow light on the steps of the staircase and out of purple clouds ninety-nine young women appeared, all dressed in a variety of skimpy, risqué attires and all with hands and feet bound. Wesleyan paused in his dramatic speech long enough for the guests, specifically the Eaters, to admire the many choices available before plunging on to his long awaited finale.

"And," Wesleyan descended the staircase, patting several women's heads affectionately as he did so, parted through the crowd, and stood next to the black table. Another flash of light, this time right beside him, occurred and out of the purple haze appeared a black box. "I give you…" Wes gripped the edge of the box, preparing to pull it down and display the beautiful creature hidden within. "The prize of the Hunt of Souls!"

There was a thud.

The wall came down.

Soul rushed forward to glimpse what was inside.

He laughed at the irony.

For the box was empty.

It would appear that this year, none of the hunters would bear a prize.

For somewhere else in the palace, a young girl clad in gold slipped out a window and escaped into the cold, black night.


	3. The Threat from the South

**Author's Note: **Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait. School, editing, and other fun stuff kept me busy. Thanks to all who have read and I hope you enjoy this chapter. Hopefully, Chapter 3 will be out in the next two weeks. Enjoy!

Also special thanks to snowbunnie13 for beta reading this for me and helping me out!

**Disclaimer:** Do we really think I'm cool enough to own Soul Eater?

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Chapter 2-The Threat from the South

_"Long ago, I began my research at Lord Mortis' request and, as I find my research drawing to a close, I see that the land of Adalon, indeed, was safe at one time. The first known disturbance of this peace was not the witches, as we all had assumed, but was the arrival of the nations themselves. We, the invaders of this land, are what destroyed its serenity. _

_There are so many who believe otherwise, vehemently suggesting that the countries of Inferno and Corintholl, the predominately hidden clans of York and Star, and the island of Sorne were once at peace. History tells a different tale. It says that Adalon has not been at peace since the disappearance of its natives, the virtually unknown, so-called 'Resonators' of Adalon, whom I might point out were driven away by the Eaters, the Seers, the assassins, the marksmen, and the healers. The threat Adalon now faces from the influx of witches at the borders and throughout the land, is quite honestly the fault of the five nations of Adalon. This threat from the South, and the darkness it may bring, could have been prevented if the nations had included the mysterious powers Adalon itself had to offer."_

Excerpt of "Concluding Thoughts and Potential Threats" from _The Book of Eibon_

* * *

By the time the sun decided to raise itself lazily into the sky, Maka Albarn was already miles away from the Evans castle. The horse she had "borrowed" last night was conveniently a war horse, able to run for hours with minimal resting periods. Therefore, she was making good time and figured both she and the horse that was so graciously carrying her deserved another short break.

Maka gracefully dismounted the beast with a certain practice and ease that hinted at her upbringing. She patted its neck affectionately, whispering words of gratitude and thanks. The worn out escapee led it to the side of the road where a small cluster of acacia trees grew on the otherwise vast, empty space of the Plains of Inferno, offering a tiny island of shadow from the sun's steadily strengthening rays. It was the second time she had seen a shady area to rest in the entire three or four hours she had been traveling and she intended to take advantage of it.

Looping the black stallion's reins on a branch just barely within her short reach, she slid down the base of one of the thin tree's trunks. Maka settled herself and watched as the sun rose higher and the horse to her left grazed. A gentle wind blew the surrounding tall grasses and the whole picturesque scenery not only practically lulled the incredibly exhausted girl to sleep but almost made her believe she was safe. Which she quickly reminded herself was not true.

Maka hadn't known that when that arrogant man purchased her she would be entering a situation that was just as bad as, possibly even worse than, the one he had "saved" her from. The young female had no idea what the handsome red-eyed fiend had meant when he mentioned her participation in some…Hunt of Souls, was it? Maka had been uncharacteristically compliant in comparison to her usual standards. Sure, she had shouted, but only a few expletives. She kicked maybe twice, and bit the stranger's hand another time. Afterwards though, she decided it would be a rule to be as uncontrollable and unruly as possible since her "compliance" caused her not to recognize the new danger she was in until it was too late.

Again.

Damn it, she really needed to start paying attention to her instincts.

But, she had been so hungry and had overheard the man bragging about being the Prince of Inferno, which in Maka's mind translated to: had money and had food. The perceptive woman had noticed the sadism in those blood red orbs as he appraised her on the way to his palace; her arms twitching with the urge to either move forward and pierce one of those glowing circles or to open the carriage door, jump out, and never cross his path again. But like the curious idiot she was, she had stayed in the hopes of getting some food and rest before she went into hiding once more.

…Only to have solid gold chains slapped on her delicate wrists the second they entered the exorbitant black castle that housed the family of royals. That was when Maka remembered what little she had heard about the infamous Hunt of Souls. Course by then, it was too late.

Maka examined the remaining heavy pieces of chain that dangled from both wrists, desperately searching for a way to remove them. By the weight and density of the precious metal, she could tell that it would be worth a fortune. If she could find a way to get the damn things off, she wouldn't have to steal for many months, possibly even a couple of years!

The petite teenager had tried to slip them off her wrists to no success. She then rummaged through the one leather bag attached to the saddle she had hastily grabbed for the second time that day, telling herself that maybe since it had been dark during the last search her eyes had missed some helpful artifact inside. But the contents of the pouch had not changed with the arrival of the light. Maka currently had a short, barely rusted knife, a small coil of rope, an empty canteen, and a dirty rag to her name. Oh, joy.

Disappointed in her search, she settled back down on the ground, yellow links clinking together as she tiredly ran a hand through her long, glossy blonde hair. It was soft to the touch and flowed like sand through her fingers, still fresh and clean from the rigorous washing she had received in preparation for the hunt. But it stuck to the back of her neck, an uncomfortable sensation that she was unfamiliar with since it was normally tied up in a braid or in twin side ponytails. Maka grabbed the majority of the hair and slung it over a shoulder, unintentionally relaxing and allowing her mind to wander. Out of habit, she reached for her neck, reedy fingers searching for something and finding nothing but smooth pale skin.

_Right. That bastard took it…_

"**What's this?" The red-eyed man cooed, greed and pleasure lighting up his face. He slowly stretched out scarred fingers to brush the pendant resting on Maka's collarbone. "What a pretty trinket. You don't mind if I have it, do you?" He smiled when she snarled in response, leaning as far away from the approaching hand as her compromising position allowed. Knowing she would regret it, she snapped forward and chomped on the outstretched appendage, the owner howling in agony and anger. It took three men and a couple hits to the head before she released, spitting as much of his foul liquid out of her mouth as she could. Woozy and disoriented, she hardly fought as he jerked her forward and grabbed the necklace, effortlessly yanking it from the small girl's fragile neck. "Bitch!" The Prince of Inferno slapped her, the sound lingering in the room longer than necessary. "This is mine now. And believe me when I say you won't need it where you're going." All Maka could manage was a whispered threat. "You're going to regret that." She hissed before she sank into unconsciousness, glowing blood red circles imprinted on the back of her eyelids.**

Maka's eyes grew hot at the memory, blinking at a brisk pace as she resolutely withheld her tears inside. She leaned her head back, giving herself permission to rest since there was nothing else she could do.

_As soon as I wake up, I have to make a plan. I have to get it back. First, I'll need to get some information…then, I'll track the Prince down…next, I'll…_

And with that, the physically and emotionally drained female's breathing slowed as she fell asleep.

A couple of minutes later, a tanned boy driving a mule-drawn cart saw a lovely woman napping and a horse grazing within the circle of trees ahead. He smiled wistfully to himself as it reminded him of how he and his older sister would take naps at the very same spot. But, as the boy and his cart got closer and closer to the slumbering girl, he began to notice certain details that caused him to hurry towards her in alarm.

"Wake up!" He shouted to the girl, leaping off the cart before it rolled to a stop and jogging to her side. The boy knelt before her and grabbed her shoulders, shaking forcefully but lightly. "Hey girl! You got to get up now! You have to wake up! They'll find you if you stay here! Hey girl!"

Maka groaned, shoving the young boy away from her, before she came to her senses and realized that someone was here beside her. She jumped up, eyes wide, alert, and piercing as they landed on the disruptor of her dreams. The boy looked relieved that she had at last awoken, ignoring the older child's hard stare as he dove for her hand. He grasped it tightly within his own and began tugging in the direction of the idling cart. "Girl, come with me! Come with me! You're not safe here! They'll find you! Come with me to my house, it's not that far away!"

Maka stared down at the frightened boy, at a loss of what to do. He looked like he was maybe seven years old, definitely no older than ten, and his warm yellow eyes were large with anxiety and concern for her. But, Maka had been tricked so many times that she found herself hesitating between knocking the boy out and getting as far away from this spot as she could or trusting the child. She knew that she was still in Eaters territory, so finding a place that was a bit less open _would_ be beneficial. Plus, the boy seemed to understand the danger she was in. And if that was the case, perhaps he had information.

When she saw him worriedly glance around the expansive plains, proceeding to pull her along despite the obvious resistance, she came to the conclusion that she would follow him and see how much help he was willing to give her. She jerked away from him, causing him to wail in surprise, but calmly muttered that she had a horse she couldn't leave behind.

After a half hour of trotting behind the distressed child, Maka saw a dilapidated two-story shack a mile off the side of the road rising out of the green and brown sea of grass like some ancient crumbling castle. Ah, who was she kidding? The building was more of a broken outhouse than a castle if she was being honest. Five minutes later and the party turned onto a barely noticeable orange dirt road that led to the lonely-looking house.

The boy moved with renewed vigor and a certain flash of energy that Maka was starting to get used to when they reached the yard. In a handful of minutes, he had unhooked the mule, thrown it in a pen, and took the reins of the horse, leading it into a small shed while the "owner" dangled off the side, not given the chance to properly reach the ground. Once the previous-dangler was stable on land, her hand was encased in his a second time as he pulled her with another surprising display of forcefulness onto the porch and over the threshold.

The usually careful woman tripped and stumbled over every little bump in the wooden floors, barely given time to right herself before being dragged further into the shockingly vast house. Her guide never hesitated and never slowed, continuing the brisk pace he had set upon their entrance, until they reached a room that Maka assumed was the kitchen and dining area if the battered table in the corner and delicious smells floating through the air were any indication.

The room was pleasantly furnished with a shallow fireplace against the back wall and a thick toffee colored rug covering the peeling floorboards. Although crowded with pieces of furniture, pots and pans that hung on walls, numerous shelves filled with pictures and books, and now people, it retained a sort of comforting, homely vibe. Maka couldn't help but relax at the quaint environment. There was an elderly woman with wrinkled hands and surprisingly young honey eyes stirring a silver pot over a furnace in the kitchenette. The pot was so large Maka bet she could sit in it comfortably. A whiskered, pepper-haired man with the same brown skin as the boy beside Maka rocked methodically in a chair directly in front of the fireplace. He was so immersed in the book in his lap, horn-rimmed glasses balancing precariously on the edge of his hooked nose, that he hardly reacted to the two intruders. His wife, however, was an entirely different matter. Though her back was turned to Maka and her son, the intuitive lady raised a hand in greeting. "Welcome home, Theodore. And who is this with you?"

"Well, momma, this girl is-"

"Oh, so you don't even know her name? Theo, sweetie, we've talked about inviting strangers home for dinner. You promised you wouldn't do it again."

"But, mother, she's-"

Theodore's father entered the conversation suddenly. "Darling, it's not that big of a deal. You make too much for us to eat anyways. As long as it isn't one of those damn Eaters, it'll be fine. Speaking of which, Theo, did you put the cart and mule away like I told you to before you came inside? They'll be out and about tonight, and I don't want to give them any reason to take my livestock again."

"Yes sir, I did. But, Father this girl is-"

"Well go and wash up, sweetheart." His mother called with a resigned sigh, surprising Maka with how easily she removed the huge pot from the top of the furnace to the table a foot away. "And be a gentleman and show our guest where to wash up, too."

Theodore's tan face darkened to a rustic brown, Maka's hand tight in his young curled fists, as he shouted the three words he knew would silence his parents' interruptions. "HUNT OF SOULS!"

Violent shudders raced down Maka's spine as the mere words brought an onslaught of unpleasant images to her mind: scantily clothed girls bound and battered, watchful weapons smirking as they passed by, and an albino with evil eyes. What were truly unexpected were the practically identical shudders that rolled over the two adults. Both finally looked at their son and the uninvited guest he brought with matching expressions of infinite pain that almost at once morphed into distress and shock.

"Oh, dear Mortis…" The older woman gasped, staring at the younger who was dressed in the thin, gauzy gold outfit reserved for the chosen prize of the Hunt of Souls. "Oh dear Mortis…you poor, poor child."

Theo's father could do nothing but wheeze, trying to fill old lungs that could barely handle such stress. He felt like he was reliving that day all over again—his limbs were shaking, his eyes were smarting, and he just couldn't breathe. As if experiencing Hell once wasn't enough, here he was forced into the very same nightmare from two years ago.

Maka watched as the people who had somewhat welcomed her into their home collapsed into chairs around the nearby table. Their eyes wide and scared as if she were some ghostly apparition come back to haunt them.

It was then that Theodore let go of the confused girl's hand, the warmth evaporating almost instantaneously as if it had never been there. He approached his parents cautiously with tears welling up in his bright, determined eyes.

"Mother…Father…this girl…we have to help her…for…for Eevie." The two adults jerked in place, bodies tensing as if they were electrocuted and almost reflexively the family glanced to a lone picture on top of the fireplace. This simultaneous action drew Maka's attention to it. She barely held in a gasp as everything clicked in the back of her mind.

A gorgeous dark-haired girl, around the same age as Maka, with warm brown sugar skin and gleaming honey eyes smiled beautifully from the plain aged wooden frame. Maka met the family's sad faces, understanding their actions. She took a seat at the table with them and, without another word, dinner was served.

The meal was a silent event. The silence was interrupted once by Maka, who thanked Theo's mother and father for letting her stay and commented on how wonderful the food tasted. After that, they relapsed into it and Maka was beginning to wonder if she should just leave…which is what she usually did when things got awkward. Though, if she was being honest, things normally went wrong for her before they got awkward. In fact, now that she pondered it, she realized that this was the first time in about three years she had actually sat at a table, eating food with people. People she had brought terrible memories to and who did not seem pleased with the reminder.

This was kind of a depressing thought…and Maka felt the beginning pressure of a heavy weight on her conscience.

But then again…if these people had lost their beloved daughter to the Hunt of Souls, you'd think they would be inclined to help her!

Maka knew she would have to leave the house eventually, so she decided that was exactly what she was going to ask for. She was aware that they couldn't hide her and, by the run-down state of their house, she estimated that there wasn't much money or food to spare. But there were always other ways to pay…

"Excuse me."

Six honey-colored eyes, identical to the eyes of the girl they were currently mourning, warily studied the fierce gaze of Maka Albarn.

"I have to leave soon and I need some help. I don't want any money or food, and I certainly don't expect you to keep me since I'm a lot more trouble than I'm worth. But, I would appreciate it if you could answer a few of my questions."

Tension sat in the air, thick and uncomfortable. Maka shifted in her seat nervously, wondering if they would refuse and shoo her away. Her heart began to beat a mile a minutes as the thought of them tying her up, calling the Eaters, and handing her over like an animal that had ran away crossed her mind. She would be completely and utterly fucked if that happened.

A loud sigh, aged and weary but accepting nonetheless, passed from the old man's lips.

"Fine. What would you like to know?"

Maka asked a plethora of questions, hours passing by as the burdened family tried to answer each to the best of their abilities. She asked about travel and the land, thanking Adalon that she had the nerve to get away on a horse as it seemed her best chance of survival and her chief method of transportation now. Theo's mother had suggested she head to the East coast in the territory of York, get on a boat, and sail away. Maka had nodded enthusiastically as if the idea was brilliant and foolproof. But, deep down she knew she could never leave Adalon.

Not even if she wanted to.

"Honestly though," Maka murmured. "I was planning on just hiding out and waiting 'til it's ove-"

"That won't work, sweetheart." The woman across from her admonished lightly, a bitter smile on her face.

"And why not?"

"The Eaters," Her husband swiftly took over. "are like Hell's bloodhounds. Sometimes I think they're worse than the damn kishins. I'm sure they've been given something with your scent on it, and like the hunters we Infernodants are, they'll find you. You are the _prize _this year, child. And that means that the hunt won't be declared over until someone's got you on your belly begging for mercy and submitting like a dog."

Maka stilled for a while after that. She didn't move. She didn't breathe. All she could hear were Theo's father's words pounding into her ears.

Well, if that was the case…

"Fine then." She mumbled mostly to herself. "If running and hiding aren't even options for me, then I'll do the next best thing." The family exchanged confused glances, not understanding what the doomed girl meant.

But Maka ignored them, instead pressing on to her final, and most important, question. "One last thing…who's the Prince of Inferno?"

The fear and surprise of the family were so strong that Maka could _taste _it, bitter and chalky and so cold it burned her tongue. She wondered if this charged silence would ever be broken until…

"Wesleyan." Theodore growled, a dark, deep sound that no child should ever be capable of making. His parents glanced down at him. They showed concern and a bit of pride at their son's hate-filled glare. "The Prince of Inferno is Prince Wesleyan."

Maka nodded. "Thanks, Theo." Her questions answered, the guest stood up, thanked the family softly, and began heading back the way she had been led in.

When she stepped out onto the porch, the sunlight scorched her sensitive eyes. She saw with a twinge of alarm that the shining sphere was almost at its highest point in the sky. Maka had been a sitting goose for roughly three hours.

_Ah, shit. _

The teenager hastily retrieved her now rested and fed stallion from the shed, easily swinging herself into the saddle. Just as she was about to head down the orange tributary back to the main road, she heard a cry behind her. Glancing over her right shoulder, Maka saw a scrambling Theo.

"Wait, Miss! Wait a second please!"

The tanned boy was huffing from his mad dash to the clearly nervous woman. Once at her side he shyly extended his hand up towards her, having to stand on his tippy toes in order for Maka to grab what was offered to her. It was a pressed white shirt wrapped around what smelt like a fresh loaf of bread.

Maka actually grinned, a flash of squinted eyes and upturned lips, before her face reverted back to its usual alert or blank stare. She dug into the saddle bag, grasping the rusted knife tightly. Theodore watched with wide eyes as she tugged on the hem of her already short skirt and sliced a thin strip off the bottom. Shorter was still short to Maka, and since nothing was visible she did not worry about the minimalized bit of cloth.

"Here." She grinned again, tying the golden strip around the boy's wrist. He smiled, a large, genuine smile that she produced. A true smile had not graced the youth's face since his sister was taken from them two years ago.

Maka spurred her stallion on in the direction of the road, left hand lifted in the air as a parting gesture. Once she had returned to the extensive dirt road, the shack far behind her, she saw off into the distance a cloud of dust surrounding a small group of horsemen. Among the steadily approaching band, Maka recognized the exact person she had been planning on searching for.

Because, you see, if Maka couldn't _run _from something, then she would do her best to beat the shit out of it.

Even if it was the Prince of Inferno.

And she'd reclaim her pendant after she made him regret taking it.

* * *

Soul was _still_ laughing. He couldn't help himself. Every time he pictured the way Wes' face had broken, for that was the description that Soul found the most accurate, at the sight of presenting nothing but an empty box to the antsy crowd, he ended up clutching his sides in pain from the force of his mirth. The way his brother's eyes, which for as long as Soul could remember held that signature hateful glint, had dulled to a rust-like color and grown to twice their normal size, making the proud heir to Inferno look like a frightened, surprised child. The way his mouth had twisted in a scared grimace as he realized that he had become the fool of the party. Wes' proud shoulders slumped as he was reduced to nothing but a cocky man who couldn't put forth what his mouth had proclaimed.

Course, this hilarious pose had lasted less than a second before rage, fiercer than anything Soul had ever seen concerning his brother, replaced it. Whoever this girl was, Soul pitied her, though more than anything he was eternally grateful for the embarrassment she had unintentionally caused the narcissistic bastard that was his brother.

Soul picked himself off the floor for the umpteenth time, unable to completely stifle his chuckles, and continued packing anything he deemed necessary for the long voyage ahead. Despite the disappearance of the most important piece of the game, it had been decided the Hunt of Souls was to continue. King Reumon had immediately come to his oldest son's aid, trying to politely demand that Wesleyan explain himself. But under the curious expression his father carried, Soul caught the inconspicuous, berating scowl that was thrown in Wes' direction.

Was he a terrible person if that had made him feel good?

Things got worse for the Prince when he moronically admitted that he had no idea what had gone wrong. Their father's scowl was a bit more prominent and a bit less hidden after that. It also matched many other faces in the crowd. In an attempt to gain back some dignity and control, Wes called for someone to go and fetch the heavily anticipated delicacy.

That was when everything went to hell in a hand basket.

Soul shook his head, utterly shocked and, dare he think it, impressed that a mere _girl_ had somehow outsmarted and knocked out, not one, but _two_ trained Infernodant weapons before fleeing the castle. Not only that but she had stolen an Infernodant war horse as her getaway vehicle.

_His_ war horse to boot.

The Eater wasn't sure if he wanted to catch this prey anymore… prior to this unusual, no, insane set of events, he had decided that the easiest way to deal with the situation had been to capture the prize. Sure, he'd have to deal with possibly breaking an unknown female's soul for the rest of his miserable life, but at least it was only one person. That didn't make it okay, but at least it was reasonable and justifiable.

Right?

But now…now he wasn't even sure he wanted to find this crazy bitch who managed to do the impossible. No one, and that meant not ever in the centuries it'd been done, had gotten away from the Hunt of Souls. Once a girl had been picked, that had been it. Until her…

Wesleyan had tried to fix this unspeakable, unfathomable blunder that occurred under his watch. But, honestly, no amount of damage control could ever repair what was done last night. Wes would be forever remembered as the first coordinator to ever lose a chosen target. The prize, no less.

Yet, it was unanimously adjudicated that the Hunt of Souls would go on as planned. The hunters this year would just have to be all the more exceptional and eager in their stalking if they wanted to win. Soul remembered the way his father's declaration, full of power, pride, and a hint of madness, flew through the air, suspended in the room long after his mouth had closed as if to further enforce the leader's point.

**"Even if many years must go by, this hunt **_**will **_**go on. And it will **_**end**_**. Though these Eaters, the epitome of everything Inferno is, was, and shall be, do not know the face of their quarry, I have no doubt she will be found!" Sanguinary eyes met Soul's, a sick, twisted sense of hope residing in them. "And her soul will taste that much sweeter when she is caught."**

That moment was the moment Soul understood why his parents had been so lenient and tolerant of him recently. As Infernodants, they truly believed in and were proud of the Eaters that characterized the nation. They were what made Inferno, Inferno. And since he was the Eater born into the leading family, it was already assumed he would be a devourer of souls and that the hunt, specifically the prize, was his. The King of the land was counting on his least favorite son to find the person who had dared to insult the traditions and people of Inferno. And he didn't simply want her humiliated and bound to the wishes of someone else for the rest of her life. That was not good enough.

He wanted her to be destroyed and stripped of everything she was. Soulless. Empty.

And he wanted Soul to be the one to do it.

The young man was at a loss, not sure what to do anymore. With a sigh, he mindlessly continued packing and unpacking, checking and rechecking, until he was certain that he could not dawdle with pretending to prepare any longer. There was a last brief glance at the room he had grown up in before he shouldered his pack and exited, shutting the door with a finality that subconsciously bothered him.

The walk through the dark halls of his family's ancestral home gave Soul time to think, his feet habitually knowing the path that would lead him out of the maze and down to the front entrance hall where his friends were waiting. Soul groaned to himself, yet another thing to consider and worry about. Although decidedly grateful that his friends would be accompanying him for the start of his journey, the Eater wasn't sure he wanted them around throughout the entire hunt. One, because they would slow him down like no other. Kid's crazy obsession with making everything symmetrical? Liz' constant desire to stop at every marketplace and bazaar? Not to mention Black Star was notorious for getting into the stupidest, somehow longest, fights known to man. And Patty? The same seventeen year old that could shoot a man right between the eyes while dodging bullets, riding a unicycle, and bombing the nearest building would turn into an ice cream needing, giraffe-stealing innocent that got lost the second you took your eyes off of her. Tsubaki actually would probably end up being helpful, but then that led to reason number two…Soul wasn't exactly sure how he was going to handle the prey of the hunt and he really didn't want to have any of his friends witness him messing with other people's souls. He could practically imagine Tsubaki crying and looking away in shame and sadness.

No. Even though he wanted his friends with him to ease his troubles, Soul knew he'd have to find a way to get rid of them eventually. Better start planning that now…

Too soon for Soul's troubled mind, he was descending the grandiose staircase of the main entrance hall. His friends who were clustered loosely into a squiggly, ovular shape quickly split upon his approaching figure, each burdened with their own hastily packed bags. All had these odd, creepily large smiles that screamed that the group was ready and raring to go. Well, all except for Black Star, who was staring intently at an old suit of armor off to the side that one of the guards had ordered him not to touch. Tsubaki had to slap his hand every other second like a mother reprimanding a child and threw a pleading look to Soul as if to say 'I'm not sure how much longer I can hold him back.'

With that, Soul marched forward, forcefully grabbing Black Star by the ear as he passed him, and led the energetic party out the massive front doors of the Evans castle. Their horses were already bridled, tacked, and laden with saddle bags that contained enough money and necessities to last the honorable young adults a year at least. Not long after entering the courtyard and several Kid-checks later, they were mounted and leaving the household of Evans; the guards closing the thick gray stone walls that surrounded the royals' land behind them.

It was silent for a time, but companionable and natural. Peaceful even. The morning wind danced along the hills and the plains, weaving the grass into shifting green waves, and the sun was slowly rising out of the Eastern horizon. The sound of steady horse hooves clopping against the rocky, dirt road the only noise that filled the steadily warming air. Soul didn't know how long this peace lasted, but it was nice. He wasn't surprised when it departed though. And, he soon found that he didn't miss it.

"When I'm a god," Black Star began, spurring his horse ahead of everyone else's. "I'm going to make this boring land into a party city. Where beauties will fall at my feet and hunt for me and my weapon, if you know what I mean." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at the gaping entourage.

Kid and Soul exchanged a glance, both rolling their eyes at Black Star's obvious innuendo. Tsubaki sighed dramatically but with a glint of humor lighting up her dark blue eyes. The youngest in the group, Patty, ignored the comment, instead focusing on the dragonflies buzzing lazily around them. Her sister, however, was not one to pass up on such an opportunity. Liz snorted. "Uh huh, yeah, sure. Let me make this very clear, Black Star." Her mouth curved into a devious smirk, eyes flashing like lighting. "In order for a hunt to commence, there has to _be_ a weapon for them to find in the first place."

This was how the majority of their conversations went.

The six juveniles argued and laughed together, enjoying that time when one is old enough to be reasonable and discuss things of importance while still being young enough to do inappropriate and crazy things. At one point, for example, Tsubaki, Kid, and Soul fell into an intense discussion about the unrest in the South and what might happen at the next negotiation between the nations. In the next instant, all three were shaking with laughter at Liz' impromptu dance on the back of her horse. Apparently, she, Patty, and Black Star had been making bets on how many times Kid's left eye would twitch when Soul would make this unsymmetrical hand motion he tended to do while talking.

Yes, the youths were extremely comfortable with one another, sometimes forgetting who they were and what they were meant to do. Every now and then, Kid wasn't Kiddrik von Mortis, the Duke of Corintholl who had received so many death threats that, despite being half-god, he had had to result in the arduous task of finding guns for hire. Occasionally, Liz and Patty weren't marksmen of York forced to work for whoever paid them the most in order to survive. Periodically, Tsubaki wasn't a healer with weapon's blood sent away from her island to aid and protect the same assassin who had most likely helped kill her older brother. Once in a blue moon, Black Star wasn't an outcast of his people burdened with scars he had obtained while trying to belong. And sometimes, Soul wasn't the younger, failed Prince of Inferno or the newly discovered Eater hunting some poor girls' souls.

Sometimes, they weren't who they intended to be. In fact, when they were all together, they simply ended up as themselves. The rest they could leave behind, even if only for a little while.

But then reality would hit. The world would return into focus. And sometimes, they'd have to face the music.

"Soul." Kid interrupted Black Star's retelling of some dirty joke, being repeated for the benefit of Liz who hadn't recovered from the previous joke and was snorting so hard that she couldn't hear the newer one. Black Star looked just about ready to complain, but quickly shut his mouth as Kid continued with his interruption. "Where exactly…are we going?"

Soul exhaled heavily, red eyes searching the flat landscape as if hoping for some type of answer or sign. "Honestly…I have no clue. I don't even know where to begin this…hunt." He nervously ran a hand through his lengthy, white locks, tugging on a couple of strands caught between his fingers. "Last night…well, before the whole prize-escaped-thing, I decided I wanted to only hur-, ahem, capture one girl, the prize, so that it would be over and done with. But, I'm not sure what to do considering recent events. If this girl, who by the way, according to Wes' description, is absolutely nothing special, could take down two older, more mature fighters…I'm not even sure I can take her if I do happen to find her." Several of his companions nodded in sympathy, at the very least attempting to imagine what their strange friend was going through.

Tsubaki solely arched a fine black eyebrow. "What exactly did Prince Wesleyan tell you about this girl, Soul? I'm not an expert on your people's traditions and I choose to be especially unfamiliar with the hunts, but, if you'll please forgive me for saying so, I have to ask why this girl was picked as a prize in the first place. Aren't they usually something…unique or exceptional or something like that?"

The Prince pondered this for a moment, dipping his head slowly in affirmation. "Yeah, I found that odd, too, Tsu. It was kind of…weird, but he didn't give us much to go on. His physical description was pretty generic: long blonde hair, short, thin, and I think he said her eyes were the color of some gemstone or whatever? I'm not even sure. He mumbled throughout the entire thing. All that I'm positive about is she's not a witch and she's not a weapon. She's just supposed to be…a virgin girl."

Everyone, even Black Star, winced at the somber tone in Soul's voice as those last three words were whispered. The implications behind the Hunt of Souls were not readily abstruse. It was not unusual, nor frowned upon, for Eaters to…play with their victims. And, in most cases, the easiest and most effective way to bind a soul was to engage in certain activities with the subject, their willingness to or not to participate making no difference. The worst instances had an Eater not only raping his prey but also consuming her soul, simultaneously violating the female on a physical and spiritual level.

"Well, then…why not head to Spartoi?"

Ten pairs of eyes immediately locked onto a relaxed and smiling Patty, feet swinging lazily and freely beside her stirrups.

"What? I think it's a good idea! Spartoi is ginormous! And if I was a girl running away from evil monsters," Soul cringed slightly, "I would want a place where I could get food, fun, safety, ice cream and giraffes and Spartoi is practically the only city in Adalon that has all of that! Plus with all the upcoming fights and political blah-blah that is sure to arise from the Hunt of Souls and the crap in the South, we'll end up having to go to Death City anyways and Spartoi is a few miles away from it."

A (very) brief silence followed the logical statement before the open sky was full of shouts of agreement. Soul grinned at his friends' enthusiasm to visit the bustling city and was surprised to feel his own heart flutter in anticipation. Patty clapped her calloused hands excitedly at the positive response from the majority of the group, Liz and Black Star specifically, though even Tsubaki joined in for a 'whoo' of joy. Only Kid was left to wallow in misery.

"Sp-Spartoi! But…but…it's just so…_asymmetrical_."

"Ah, shut it!" Liz growled. "I'm stuck with your delusions and compulsions all day, every day, and I am ready for a break from your anal retentive ass!"

"Elizabeth Thompson! I thought we discussed that you are _never _allowed to refer to me with such a repulsive word!"

The others stared in shock, not accustomed to seeing Kid lose his calm, executive demeanor. Liz, however, merely sighed with a roll of her bright blue eyes and a tightly curled fist.

"Right, sorry, 'arse.' Your anal retentive arse."

Kid glowed with approval. "Much better."

Soul turned to look at Liz, an eyebrow raised as if to ask how that word was any better than the previous. She proceeded to give another infuriated roll of her eyes while mouthing the word 'symmetry.' His response was to tremble with barely muffled snickers.

The next few hours passed like this, with jokes and guffaws, celebrations and exaltations, and even some buffoonery, complements of Black Star. The adolescents cherished the absurdity of it all, of themselves and their birthrights and the situations fate afflicted upon them. They had no idea that their journey had just begun the instant that figure spotted them far off in the distance.

Soul jerked his head up and to the northwest, the main direction of the road they were travelling on, as he thought he had seen in the corner of one eye an obscure glare, like the sun reflecting on a shiny object. The second he searched for the cause, it was gone. Nothing but dirt, gravel, and the vast land spread out ahead of them. Why then did he feel so…tense?

He heard, as though he were submersed in water, a gargling fluctuation of noise that sounded an awful lot like Patty and Black Star complaining about being hungry. Still trapped in the paranoid state of his mind, he hardly registered Kid and Tsubaki discussing the fact that the horses probably needed a rest and having a chance to walk around and eat a bit would be a good idea. So, the Eater was surprised when his attention was called back to his dismounted group of friends, staring at him intently and curiously.

"Uh, Soul," Black Star watched him with narrowed, calculating eyes, "what exactly are you doing?"

"Umm, well, uh, you see, uh." Soul stammered sheepishly, wishing to fall off the horse from embarrassment over his oblivious, paranoia episode. Until he saw it again. A sparkle of light teasing his peripheral vision. It vanished the second he tried to look directly at it.

"I'm just going to scout ahead. Maybe there's some shade down there. Or…it kind of seems like there may be a shack or something? Anyways, I'll ride a ways down and return in a little while. Okay?" He spurred his horse on hastily, not even bothering to wait for a reply or to inspect the scrutinizing, worried expression on each of his friends' faces.

Soul rode a couple of miles down the road with orange and red dust swirling around his cantering horse. He saw that there actually _was _some decrepit shed thing a few miles off from the main road. Huh. How ironic.

He was pacing his horse eagerly in this area, searching and searching for whatever had caused that mysterious flash he had glimpsed…when it happened.

One second Soul was staring at the road and the grass to his left, eyes tightened in a practically futile attempt to improve his vision. The next had him heading _towards_ the ground, face first.

Some flying _thing_ had pounced from the right and had tackled Soul right off of his horse and on to the harsh, unforgiving ground.

* * *

Meanwhile, the Evans castle was in choas. Armored guards and shifting weapons were running within the enclosed land, putting out fires and sparring with large, black and gold snakes that had appeared out of nowhere. No matter how many burning buildings had flames quenched, more would soon be set ablaze. Twisted and strangled bodies were lying face down in the dirt, unmoving and unblinking as the beasts that killed them continued on their treks of death and destruction.

There was a sudden cry of "Witch! Witch!" that pierced the scene, but was soon cut off with a snap and a choking groan.

A woman, barefoot and clothed in a hooded black cloak with a pointed golden arrow, gradually ascended grey, white-flecked steps until she faced the massive closed doors that barred her entrance to the castle of the Evans household. With a flick of her wrist, they flew open as if weighing no more than a barrel of straw. A ghostly wailing wind emerged and filled the grand front hall, announcing the visitor's foreboding presence.

Up in the West tower, Prince Wesleyan was hurriedly issuing orders and commands, his parents and younger brother's sudden departures pressing heavily on his mind. The safety of the Evans household and all the people who lived within it were in his hands. And, though an asshole of the first degree, he still took this grave matter seriously.

However, as the loud crash and bang of the doors to the castle being thrown open rang throughout the halls, the guards and weapons unflinchingly grabbed their Prince and tossed him in the nearest lockable room, resolutely standing outside as protection. Wesleyan paced within, ears straining to hear every noise and fingers flexing beside his sword's hilt.

He jumped at the sound of whimpers of pain and thuds of impact. Before he could even unsheathe his sword, the locked door fell to the side, splintered like a mighty force had taken an axe to it. The cloaked figure gingerly stepped inside, bare feet carefully tiptoeing around the shattered pieces of wood. She was shadowed by a young boy with hair bright and pink as a sunset and glazed black eyes that stared only at the woman before him.

Slowly, reveling in the anticipated glare on the handsome Prince's face, the woman drew back her hood, exposing shining golden hair, short in the back and twisted into a promiscuous braid that laid in between her breasts and down her front. Salient yellow eyes, dominated with a slender line-like pupil, settled on Wesleyan with a hungry gaze. Like a snake about to strike. Black markings, eerily shaped like the beasts she commanded, shimmered on her exposed skin and oscillated like disturbed, running water, changing positions and curling and uncurling around her arm, her wrist, her hand, her neck, and so on. It almost seemed to Wesleyan that the things were _inside _of her and…alive.

"Good afternoon." Her voice had an unnatural hiss and cadence to it that caused angry goose bumps to appear on the Prince's neck and arms. "You are Wesleyan, Prince and heir to Inferno, are you not?"

Wes did not answer, choosing to instead rip his sword from its scabbard and charge at the witch. Right before he could reach her, the boy that had sat so silently and stilly behind her came forward, a black sword, darker and more abysmal than Wes' own, sprouting from his arm.

"Tsk, tsk, Wesleyan." The woman cooed, not even a tiny bit startled at the sudden display of violence. "Fighting with Crona and Ragnarok is not a wise choice. And here I thought that you were a smart boy. Tsk, tsk."

An unexpected vibration, rattling the Prince's ears as though he could _feel _someone shrieking into his body, caused Wesleyan to fly backwards, his body convulsing from the attack.

"Now, where were we? Ah. Yes. I was asking you a question. One of many that I expect you to answer. Hurry, now. I don't have much time."

Wesleyan spat a decidedly foul, rancid black liquid from his mouth and growled at the relaxed witch.

"Fine, heathen! What the hell do you want? You obviously know that I am who you say I am, so spit out what you've come here to say."

The so-called heathen smirked, unblinking eyes widening in delight. "Heathen? Hah. That's a new one. I actually kind of like your…spark. And knowing what you stole from me, I can already guess you have impeccable taste."

"Stole from you? I haven't stolen _shit_ from you. I did, however, buy some girls from your little brat." He pointed a finger at the weapon boy, who mumbled quietly to himself, not too happy with being brought into the spotlight.

The witch frowned, her eyes narrowed in distaste as she surveyed the now crouching young boy. "Well, yes. I can understand how that would confuse you. You, see, my son here, can be quite the moronic fool sometimes." She kicked the boy swiftly in the side as she passed, coming to kneel before the still grounded Wesleyan. "And one of his foolish mistakes was selling the wrong girl to you. So, if you could show me where the little beauties are, I'll take the one stolen from me, on accident of course, and be on my merry way." What was thought to be a charming and reassuring smile was flashed at the furious Prince, the charm and reassurance diminished by the pointed fangs that glistened in her mouth.

Wesleyan smirked, pleased to be the one to deliver the bad news. "They're gone. All of them. We set them free this morning for the Hunt of Souls. They could be anywhere by now."

The sorceress froze. She twitched. She opened her mouth. Then, she closed it again. After a minute of repeating this pattern, words finally came out when her maw was agape. "…they're all gone…"

"Yes."

The woman shuddered violently, eyes brightened by an almost insane fury. "She's gone. She's…gone. Free." With a twist of her wrist, a black arrow shot out, lodging itself in one wall and setting it on fire. "Ngh-AH!" She screeched in obvious anger, setting things in the room on fire as an arrow flew for each scream and curse that escaped her.

Wesleyan was not expecting such a reaction from the controlled witch and that started him wonder what kind of girl had caused this. He found himself chuckling humorlessly. The snake charmer turned, eyes alight with even more anger. "What. Is. So. Funny?"

The Prince laughed even harder, mainly because he thought it was ironic that this woman was angry at some nameless girl just as he was. "Not you, madam. I'm not laughing at you. It's simply ironic that one of the girls I bought from you happened to ruin my image, and the girl you're looking for is ruining yours as we speak. Though it is shameful to admit it, I've always been frightened of witches, and was terribly scared as you lived up to every horrid thing I'd heard about them. But, to witness you so out of control with rage," Wes chortled once more. "It makes you less scary. Because now I know there's someone or something that obviously has _you _daunted and discouraged. Now you are the same as me." And he fell into fits of angry laughter again.

The witch, however, was stunned and lazily began to smile, the anger and fury that had shone out of her snake eyes replaced with the more natural hunger. "This girl…she was blonde, yes? Attractive in an odd way? Came up to maybe your collarbone? With a mark on her left shoulder and haughty eyes? Did she look at you as if you were scum beneath her shoes? Did she have a necklace that-?"

Wesleyan visibly tensed during the description, all signs of laughter gone. He was staring up at the wicked woman's smile and could feel his own lips beginning to mirror hers. "Yes." He shakily pulled himself up on his feet, leaning heavily against the wall for support for a minute before pushing himself off and approaching the witch. "She did. That's the same bitch who-"

"Who wronged me and, apparently you, and who we're both looking for, hmm?"

The two villains watched each other, carefully measuring the other's possible abilities and motivation to find their common enemy. They deliberately and gradually extended hands towards one another in silent agreement.

"And who do I have the pleasure to work with on this endeavor?"

The woman with snake eyes grinned, fangs peeking out from under her upper lip and pressing lightly on her bottom one. She spoke languidly, a sultry purr framing her name.

"Medusa."


	4. Creatures of Unknown Intent

**Author's Note: **Hey guys! So so sorry for the wait. I mentioned black holes whisking me away in my profile and unfortunately encountered the first of the new year...Still! I bring tidings of chapter 3 and also, if you're interested, a little collection of "short stories" that I am going to post soon just for kicks and giggles and, well, cause I felt like it. Plus its kinda sorta an apology of sorts for the wait. A huge thanks to snowbunnie13 for the lovely feedback and beta reading! Anyways, enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **Let's just say Santa didn't bring everything on my list...in particular the rights to Soul Eater...they remain with Atsushi Okubo.

* * *

Chapter 3-Creatures of Unknown Intent

_ "Amid the fascinating secrets, powers, and creatures of Adalon I have studied, perhaps the most intriguing is that of the kishins. The name of these frightening beings was assigned by Adalon's natives, the Resonators. It has long been known that the Resonators developed a certain "language of the land," properly named Adalonian, and that many of the terms used to describe certain features of Adalon are taken from this hidden language. The word 'kishin' is a loose interpretation of the Adalonian word for 'demon' or 'corrupt soul,' a proper name for these beasts when the legend it is taken from is considered._

_ The Resonators believed that the kishins were creatures, or sometimes implied that they were people, of Adalon whose souls had been corrupted. This stems from a roughly translated story about a man simply referred to as Uragiri. Uragiri was a Resonator who went against the 'law of the land' by selfishly refusing to die and to allow his soul to 'pass on.' Because souls are not meant to last in Adalon forever, Uragiri slowly decayed into a 'shell of a man' who thought of nothing but creating chaos and destruction. He polluted the thoughts of other Resonators and other creatures of Adalon whose souls, in turn, were corrupted. Thus, Uragiri was sent far away from Adalon (some hypothesize he was sent to the South and bred the witches) and the Resonators used their powers to drive away the chaos inflicted on the land. Still, from time to time, Adalon suffers from this 'betrayal' and its creatures' souls become corrupt, which is why there is a constant, considerable population of kishins. _

_ Though this is merely a legend from a culture no longer present in Adalon, I believe it should be studied and given more attention. Present research on the kishins, done primarily by Dr. Franken Stein at Shirnobul, has produced little results. These deadly and destructive creatures continue to plague the land for an unknown reason and with unknown intent."_

Excerpt of "The Creatures of Adalon" from _The Book of Eibon_

* * *

Soul's face and the ground had met before. Being an Infernodant and a weapon meant years of training and lots of slams to the ground. He had learned early on how to take a hit.

But, never like this.

Soul dimly thought in the back of his mind that rather than being acquaintances his face and the ground were now lovers. He felt that sting associated with skin being shredded and the warmth that was his blood coating the wound. The Eater coughed furiously, attempting to spit out the gritty orange dust he had inadvertently swallowed upon impact. However, because a heavy object was pinning him down, he ended up choking further on the dust. His body jerked when something was roughly shoved into his lower back.

It took Soul longer than it should have to recognize the weight and heat of the thing on top of him as a body with a bony knee spearing him in the back. Longer still was the time it took from him to react to this fact.

The weapon quickly rolled to the right, effectively causing his opponent's knee to slide off his back and to the side. An elbow was thrown forcefully behind him and he allowed himself a brief grin of pride when he felt it connect. A muffled grunt further encouraged him to work towards gaining the upper hand of the fight.

Soul noticed that the body clinging to him was shockingly light and, without that knee to hold him in place, he easily pushed himself up. He thanked the gods that he was born with long arms and a surprisingly lean, flexible torso as he reached for his back, tangling his fingers with the first thing he touched: a soft, silky material. A whine, oddly high-pitched for a man, sounded directly beside his left ear as he yanked on the silken threads intertwined with his fingers.

The angered Prince leaned forward and pulled the person clinging onto him over his head. Just before he could transform his arm into a sharp, deadly scythe, Soul dared to glance at the person sprawled before him. He barely had time to register the meaning of what he saw: a curvy form with smooth, pearly skin and fine, lengthy blonde hair, before his feet were pulled out from under him. As his head forcefully smacked the ground for the second time that day, it dawned on him.

He was wrestling with a _girl_.

…And from what he could tell… it was a _pretty _girl.

Soul rolled to the left and hastily pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, attempting to stand. Whether he was going to stand and run or stand and fight was still undecided.

Despite the fact that she had initiated this brawl, Soul was not comfortable fighting with the opposite sex. It wasn't that he couldn't per se. As a weapon, he was taught to use his powers to defeat. It didn't matter who, where, what, or why. Only that he knew how to win. As a Prince, he was taught those awful "chivalry" laws that, interestingly enough, did not apply to the chauvinistic Hunt of Souls. In Soul's personality and default nature, he did not like the idea of spilling _anyone's _blood, at least not without good reason. And, unless it was a witch, that went doubly for females.

In the end, though, it didn't matter what Soul's plan was because the female recovered faster than he. She pounced on his back, seemingly unaffected by her rough meeting with the road, and wrapped a slender elbow around his neck, jerking roughly to the side. The weapon felt his throat being squeezed shut, involuntarily gagging as that terrible constriction made dark gray splotches blur his vision for a moment.

_Hell, she's stronger than she looks._

Not that he had looked at her for very long. There was a brief glimpse of pale skin, something shiny and shimmery, as well as a hint of curves. But he also sensed she was small and tiny. She had felt practically weightless until she had situated her body on pressure points. Like now, Soul could feel the dainty arm that crushed his windpipe. He was sure that he could easily wrap a hand around it if given the chance yet here it was threatening to cut off his air supply and drain his life away. Strange how something so little could end up so dangerous.

Directed and yanked until he was sitting on his knees, legs folded underneath him, the girl on his back shifted. For a wondrous, heavenly second, the pressure around his neck decreased, allowing Soul to take a huge, deep breath. He sighed in ecstasy and promised himself to never undermine and forget the importance of lungs being stretched and filled with glorious oxygen.

Then, of course, the pressure returned on his neck. Worse than before.

Instead of soft, warm skin braced against his neck, he felt cold, heavy metal take its place. A fist holding one end of the chain was pressed against his neck while one hand was grabbing onto his shoulder as leverage. It was an odd position and Soul was wondering what kind of girl this was. Was she a weapon? Is that why the metal felt connected to her? It would certainly explain how she had so effortlessly maneuvered him to the position she wanted.

Suddenly, all these thoughts became irrelevant. Even the lack of air was unnoticeable as a hot pant sounded in his right ear. As if the sound of her rough breathing increased his sensitivity, the Prince became shockingly aware of the reoccurring brush of skin against his thin shirt as the female's chest rose and fell heavily from their scuffling. Her breath nearly sent shivers down his spine, but he angrily contained him. This bitch was an enemy who was practically _choking _him for Adalon's sake! What kind of idiot got distracted in _that _way in a battle?

_I'm going to have to train with the girls more often to prevent this shit from happening…_

Unfortunately, Soul's plans for future preparations were disrupted by that moist mouth pressed impossibly closer to his ear. A voice that was as enchanting, dark, and beautiful as Infernodant music whispered intimately to him.

"I told you I would make you regret it."

The young man jumped, both from the sensation of her breath against his neck and confusion at the words she said, causing the girl clinging to him to yank tighter in alarm.

"Uh, uh." She crooned sweetly, a bitter edge to her otherwise lovely, unusual voice. "You're not going anywhere until you return it to me."

Soul thought that this was probably the time to really put those last bits of air in his chest to good use. He struggled to push out a response through his clenched throat.

"I don't know what," He gasped loudly, "you're talking about."

His opponent hissed with anger, her legs squeezing against his sides. Somehow, she pulled the metal tighter against Soul's skin. He was positive that the cold imprint would be on his neck forever if he survived the lack of oxygen.

"Don't even bother lying, Prince Wesleyan." She sneered the name with obvious contempt and hatred. That was when Soul lost it.

Or rather, won it.

Here he was _again _being compared to his fucking ass of an older brother. Actually this time was worse than simple comparison. This bitch actually thought he _was_ Wesleyan. And that caused his blood to boil and heat, quickly burning hotter than any sun. There was no hope for controlling himself anymore.

In a fit of anger, frustration, and to get some god damn air, Soul's left elbow sprouted a red-tinted black blade. It sliced the girl's satin skin effortlessly.

She yelped in surprise, immediately recoiling from the blade and releasing her grip on the chain. The weapon jerked his head backwards, grunting in satisfaction when he heard a distant crack as it slammed against hers. The girl whined and slipped off his back, hands twitching as she couldn't decide whether to grasp her throbbing head or her bleeding side.

Soul rolled forwards and jumped to his feet, morphing his entire left arm into a seamless weapon. He turned, red eyes wild in their fury, ready to slay the person who had dared to attack him and mistake him for his older brother.

But one look and it was gone. The madness melted away like the frost of an especially difficult and deadly freezing winter. The moment the sun returned in all its beauty and brightness, it obliterated the ice and the cold as though it never existed at all.

The woman before him was nothing short of extravagant but in an almost…unreal manner. Her skin, which had an iridescent quality to it, was a flawless moonbeam white. Delicate bones protruded from within, clearly defining her fragile skeletal state. She looked like she hadn't been properly fed for many months. Her cheeks were gaunt and slightly caving in, emphasizing high, royal cheekbones, yet were still flushed with an appetizing, healthy rouge tint. Her lips were colored the exact same shade, a rich, coral pink mixed with cherry red creating the most succulent appearing mouth Soul had ever set eyes on. Fine slightly windblown, wavy ash blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders, gently brushing the tops of her petite but quite noticeable breasts, and hid her eyes from view. She was sitting on legs that seemed to be more vast and smooth than the entire Plains of Inferno, which Soul knew covered many miles. His gut twisted abruptly and guiltily as he noticed one hand pressed tightly against her head and the other quickly turning scarlet from her bleeding ribcage.

She was a strange mixture of skeleton and beauty, half appearing to be at Lord Mortis' door and half appearing to be the most exquisite creature there ever was. Soul had already decided she was beautiful, but couldn't quite define what made her that way. If one focused on a certain aspect of the girl, they would find her to be perhaps average. But to view her in her entirety: a clash of gold, white, pink, red, and brown, angles and curves, and those delicious legs…she was absolutely breathtaking.

"I'mnotWesleyan." Soul spat nervously, rushing the sentence into a single practically undistinguishable word. He cleared his raspy throat, sore from the pressure that had been applied to it. "I'm Prince Soulomon. His younger brother."

The girl froze and Soul did, too. She because of his words. He because he finally noticed what she was wearing—a resplendent, almost see-through gold material split into two pieces: one that clung tightly to her miniscule bosom and another that ended at the top of her thighs, barely covering her bony hips and sacred place. Gold chains hung from her dainty wrists, swinging like hypnotizing pendulums and holding Soul's attention. She…she was…

_Holy fucking Lord Mortis of Adalon…I captured the _prize.

"Captured" being a (very) loose term.

The girl's body was tense to the point where the man watching her could scarcely tell if she was breathing. He truthfully was having difficulty with the action himself. He decided to completely forget trying to take in air when she spoke again.

"We'll see about that."

Soul wondered what the hell the prize meant by that when he found his mind suddenly blank. The girl had removed her hand and lifted her head up, exposing startling sharp eyes. Green. The color like no other ever to be seen in the land. Piercing and unyielding like diamonds, but the shade of emeralds. Dark flecks of viridian that reminded Soul of the untouched secretive, old forest of Grigori that bordered Corintholl and Death City swam in those irises.

They held him. He couldn't move. He didn't want to. All he wanted to do was stay connected to those ethereal, jade orbs. Until he felt it.

_Something_ touched _him_.

Not in the physical sense of the word. His body was still a foot away from the girl, a few feet from his horse, and standing firmly on the ground.

But _him_. His _soul_ was being…touched. Read. Felt. Known. Seen. Caressed.

By eyes that were his absolute favorite color.

Dimly somewhere he remembered…

"**The prize of this year's prey was handpicked by myself with my brother in mind."**

And then the hunger came.

There was a miniscule, paralyzing moment where Soul's _self _surged forward, dark, carnivorous and completely intent on devouring _whatever _foolishly stroked him. He could taste _it _in his mouth, a hint of something eerily bitter yet enticingly sweet that numbed his tongue. Like a concoction of the Star clan's strong whiskey, his mother's rosemary and thyme, and Soul's favorite red wine. Simultaneously he sensed a…shape and texture so to speak. Soft, downy feathers, similar to baby birds' wings, were hastily retreating from his deranged, hungry soul. But not out of fear. No, _it _merely drew back far enough to be out of his reach before _it _ploughed towards him with a vengeance. Light feathers were suddenly steely and hot as though determined to brand Soul from the inside out. The _thing_ clung to him tightly with no sign of relenting until the Eater consciously realized what was happening.

He was trying to devour _her_.

And she was not allowing it.

As Soul waned off the madness and caged the hunger, he slowly felt his soul being released. He found himself…tingling and trembling. Both on the outside and _within_.

Yet Soul missed…whatever that had been. Prior to his spontaneous burst of Eater's madness, it had been a connection of sorts. And, if he concentrated hard enough, he could still feel a faint indescribable trace of _her _anchored to him.

Those beautiful experiences fading fast, he groggily sank to his knees as though all the energy had been taken from him. Whatever had occurred left him tired and embarrassingly sad. A solitary tear clung to his dark eyelashes as he watched her reaction. Gemstone eyes widened and those delectable lips parted to allow a strangled gasp to escape.

"You're not…you're not him. You…You are…an…E-Eat…"

…And she's gone.

Before Soul could even blink, the girl was high tailing it away from him, lithe body and strong legs saving her from the hunter before her.

The young man didn't have time to analyze what had just happened. There probably wouldn't ever be enough time to answer all the questions bouncing around in his skull. But he did have time to think one thought as she practically flew down the dirt road.

_Oh, hell no. This girl is _not _getting away again!_

Soul shakily got to his feet and headed after her, for once thankful for the boring scenery. It gave her no places to hide.

As his body moved, he felt his strength return and his feet pounded harder on the ground as he pushed himself faster. She was fast, too, but on a straight, rocky path, Soul knew that he could catch her after a while. The girl saw him gaining on her and seemed to come to a similar conclusion as she began whistling a high, distressed note.

In a flash of black and a gust of air, a horse appeared from some spot in the grass and was running straight for the girl a couple of meters before him. Soul skidded to a stop, from shock and annoyance, as he watched _his _war horse lope to this stranger's side. What ever happened to the sacred loyalty between a Prince and his fucking horse? He had taken care of the damn beast since it rose on its knobby legs. And this was his repayment?

"Ziel!" The Prince boomed, his voice laced with an unwavering command. The black stallion turned and reared in recognition, charcoal hooves pawing at the endless blue sky. It was now the girl's turn to watch in shock and frustration as the horse lazily trotted to its master. Soul smirked at her anxious face and swore that if the prize had been an Eater she gladly would have devoured his pompous soul. She bit her lip as his horse got closer and closer to him, knowing full well that as soon as he was mounted her battle was lost.

She whistled again and Soul blinked in surprise when Ziel halted to glance back at her. The proud creature stood about halfway in between them, one second acting as if it would return to Soul and the next following the girl's whistled order. Ziel was getting impatient though, not particularly happy to be called in two different directions by people it seemed to equally trust. Eventually, it looked like Soul would be the winner of this mental tug-of-war between the girl, him, and his horse until she snarled an angry word and whistled a different note.

The horse Soul had borrowed and left down the road flew past him in a hurried gallop. The beast did not even pause as it passed Ziel but ran straight for the girl, as if he were going to run her over. At the last second, in a feat that even the seasoned Prince would not have been able to complete, the prize moved to the side and jumped, successfully grabbing onto the horse and hoisting herself into the saddle. Without skipping a beat, she fell into the horse's rhythm and rode down the steadily inclining road.

It took a couple of seconds for Soul to process what he had witnessed. It wasn't every day that a stranger not only commanded his own horse but called another to her aid. Though not a horse he had personally trained, the borrowed gelding was an Infernodant horse that was raised to respond to a set bit of commands from a certain number of people. And here this…this unknown female had _whistled_ and it had obeyed?

_What the hell is going on here? Who the fuck is this girl?_

Well…there was only one way to find out.

Soul hastily mounted Ziel and casted one discouraged glance at the racing form. He noted that they were almost to the top of this hill on the Plains, the incline that marked the end of Infernodant territory. On the other side was an unexpected onslaught of mountainous cliffs and caverns seemingly rising out of thin air if you weren't expecting them. But past the mazes within were forests…with several different roads.

If she got through the Labyrinth Caverns, he'd probably never see her again. Her trail would be lost and there would be too many roads to take. And if she disappeared into the forest…

He refused to think about it any longer.

Soul kicked Ziel swiftly in the sides and bent down as the speedy war horse set off in the opposite direction, towards Soul's group of friends that were forgotten during the whole ordeal.

He got within shouting range and pulled Ziel into a formidable rear while he waved his hands and cried out. This caused the small group of young adults to scramble onto their horses in alarm. Without actually waiting for them to reach him, the Prince sent the horse racing back down the road it came, knowing his companions would catch up to him eventually.

Sure enough, he heard the rough beating of hooves on his left flank. Soul saw with minimal surprise that Patty, the best rider in the group, was almost passing him. On his right flank was Black Star, another unexpectedly spectacular rider. The other three were in a straight line following them. Royalties and weapons were taught excellent horsemanship. To travel several leagues without stop and without tiring the burdened animal was a necessity of kingship and of protection. Thus, Soul happily slowed once they reached the top of the hill to inform his allies of the situation. His worry flew away into the blue sky when he saw a small form entering the sienna crevices rising up from the barren ground like shards of glass. They would catch up to her, corral her, and she would be captured.

Well, that's how simple it was in Soul's mind.

"Soul!" Liz snarled as she wheezed in time with her exerted mare. "Why in Adalon's name are we rushing down the Plains as if they were on fire?" She irritably tossed her disheveled sandy blonde bangs out of her eyes.

"Yes, Soul, is something the matter? Are you injured?" The dark-haired healer's glistening oceanic eyes gazed at Soul with what could only be called intense concern. Tsubaki was normally the sensitive one in the pack. Soul often wondered if she ever felt any other emotion other than love, care, joy, and perhaps miniscule bouts of annoyance. She seemed practically blind to all others.

Black Star, however, was not and glared at the Prince for causing his partner so much fear.

"Yes, Soul. _Do _tell your god what the hell is going on here? If an awesome Star like me is going to push my equally awesome beast then I ought to have a good reason for it! Plus, you've worried Tsubaki. And I'm pretty sure that's a crime in nine cities."

The white-haired male threw all of them an apologetic look that quickly morphed into something focused, determined, and slightly dangerous. Black Star and Tsubaki cocked their heads to the side, surprise evident on their naïve faces while Liz and Kid exchanged several theories as gold eyes met luminescent blues. Even young Patty had an aura of uncertainty before she shrugged it off, preferring to stare at the threatening rusty teeth looming out of the ground below them than hypothesize the reasoning of her odd Eater friend.

As the group, minus Patty, studied the shift in their companion's demeanor, each began to note the slight wounds he had recently acquired. What had appeared as dark brown mud caked on his right cheek, upon closer inspection, became the familiar combined color of dirt and blood covering a wound. His originally white tunic was more of a disheveled, tan scrap of cloth covering him, torn a bit here and there, which exposed long, lean arms decorated with tiny lacerations. In short, the albino's appearance screamed "I just got into a fight."

"Listen up. If you don't want to help, that's fine. I'll completely understand…but I really do need you guys to help me." Red eyes zeroed in on the Labyrinth Caverns at the end of the road's descent. They glimmered with an unusual steel-like glare, as though mimicking the red hue of the blades the weapon produced. "When I scouted ahead, some female pounced on me, and…I swear to Adalon, Black Star, if you make _one _joke about me getting bested by a girl I will send you to Lord Mortis in the you're-gone-forever way!"

The assassin, who had opened his mouth to utter some quip about the situation, reluctantly shut it. For added punishment, Tsubaki swatted him in the arm.

"Anyways," Soul continued, running a hand through his hair anxiously, "while I was trying to keep her from choking me, I ended up getting a good look at her…she's the _prize_."

His friends gasped lightly; Tsubaki was so shocked that she began fanning her alabaster face. Kid's amber eyes narrowed in suspicion and indecision as Soul went on with his explanation.

"She got away from me by stealing the other horse, which is another weird thing altogether, but the point is I have to catch her. If only to find out what's going on here…"

"What do you mean by that?" Kid murmured softly. The Prince of Inferno met the hard, topaz gaze of the Duke of Corintholl. Soul could recognize Kid's "take charge" voice no matter what day or time and felt Kid's apprehension to aiding and abetting an Eater capturing a victim. The people of Corintholl were avidly against the Hunt of Souls, which, frankly, didn't offend or surprise him. A lot of people were against it and, if he was being candid, Soul Eater himself didn't like it. But if it got out that _the _Duke of Corintholl was acting in direct conflict with the beliefs of his people…there would be hell to pay.

Soul dropped Kid's glare and shakily ran a hand through his dirtied locks. "You don't have to help Kid. I understand. But, for the record, I'm not planning on…Eating her. Or anything remotely close to that. I just need to talk to her. She did something…weird to me and then she went and mentioned my brother…and she's the prize. I think it would be best if _I _caught her before anyone else."

Liz's attention flickered between the pensive glares of Kid and Soul. Eventually, the young Duke sighed and rolled his shoulders in an effort to soften his seemingly nonchalant response. "If an interrogation is the _only_ thing you plan on… and after considering the fact that the young woman is being pursued by less likeable gentlemen…then I suppose it wouldn't do much harm for Liz, Patty, and I to assist."

Soul grinned and gave Kid a gracious nod. He was about to turn and discuss acquiring the help of the assassin and his lovely assistant before his edgy companion once again spoke with that warning tone.

"But just this once Soul."

The Eater pretended to ignore him, knowing full well the risk the young noble was taking in this capture. He instead raised a translucent eyebrow at his oldest friend who was smiling with an unfortunately familiar maniacal grin.

"Do you even have to ask? Without this God you'd fail, so of course I, as the great Black Star, will assist you! Hell, I bet I'll capture the girl with both eyes closed and one hand behind my back because that's how amazing I am! Ah hah HAH!" The blue-haired man shouted while his bodacious weapon nodded in agreement to his boisterous yells.

For a split second, Soul, their friend, appeared and replaced that strange glint that shone in hunters' eyes with his cheeky grin they knew so well. It was a reassuring gesture that made his companions trust his judgment. Despite the fact that Soul was using the fierce skills born and bred into him, _he _was in charge of his actions. Not the madness that was associated with his people.

"Okay then. This is what I'm thinking…" And so, the Infernodant hunter began discussing possible plans to corner the strange girl the races of Adalon were pursuing.

* * *

Maka was more than a little confused. Not to mention a whole other level of angry. Nothing seemed to be working out in the blonde's favor at the moment. To use the phrase "today was not her day" did not accurately define her entire shitty situation.

First, she had discovered that she had not only been bought for the specific reason of being a piece of meat for a bunch of dogs hunting her, but she just so happened to be the centerpiece to the hunt. The demonic Eaters, which Maka remembered from her mother's few lessons, were cursed persons who had the capability to devour souls and prided themselves so much that they created the mother of all hunts, the Hunt of Souls, to praise such an act. From the brief bit her mother had explained to her when mentioning the Hunt of Souls, Maka had come to the frightening, heart-pounding realization that the best case scenario for her was to be on the run, possibly for the rest of her miserable existence. The worst case scenario was something she forcefully refused to even think about. If she was…captured and…raped…and her soul was taken…no. No, she had to stop.

_Do _not_ think like that, Maka. You can't let that happen. It won't happen. I won't let that happen. I'll _die _before I let that happen. _

Second, Maka found out that not only was she being hunted but, in order to recover that precious item stolen from her, she would be forced to hunt the Prince of Inferno. Which, while being an impossible win in normal circumstances, was going to be quite literally an unimaginable victory during the Hunt of Souls. Maka's rational brain wouldn't even allow the frustrated girl to consider returning to the Evans' castle. This was why she had been so frantically thrilled to find the Prince crossing her pathway. That was until…

Third, she had belatedly found out that there was a second Prince of Inferno. A younger brother to the evil Wesleyan…a possibly more evil individual than his elder once the fact of him being a fucking Eater was taken into account. And yet…

Maka distinctly recalled meeting those bright red eyes for the first time. The exact instant she met the male's face she had known he was not the man she had been hoping for.

Although, they looked similar with their strong, chiseled features, the younger Prince of Inferno was missing the tense malice and rage that sat so heavily on his older brother's brow. He also had a longer nose to match the slightly leaner curvature of his jawbone and hair that curled gently at the ends with a silvery glint like starlight. It was, in Maka's strangely distorted opinion, much better than Wesleyan's sickly milk-colored frock atop his arrogant head. Rather than groomed straight as one would expect of a noble, it was messy but in an almost…deliberate and charming way.

Though the greatest difference between the two brothers was their distinguishable red eyes. Where Wesleyan had hate-filled maroon orbs that shone like freshly spilt blood, his brother's flickered as though fires burned deep within and were colored like the promising crimson of the sunrise. Or, perhaps, more accurately like the polished rubies her mother wore.

Nonetheless, his were the eyes of an innocent; in fact, they had seemed almost sheepish when he realized he was fighting a girl…causing Maka to be unsurprised when she had searched his soul and discovered that he was a completely different individual than the man he was related to.

Until his soul had sprung forth with Eater's madness and tried to devour hers.

Now, as a fourth example of this horrid day, Maka found out that she wasn't so sure what to think of the young man she had attacked and, as a result, was probably chasing after her. On the one hand, he was an Eater. A participant of this most vile Hunt of Souls. Therefore, he should be a disgusting, deplorable person. He was hunting women to rape and Eat for his own gain. He was hunting _her_ to rape and Eat for his own gain.

So why then did Maka keep remembering how his soul had felt brushing against hers?

The exhausted female was suddenly too tired to continue pondering all of these disconcerting situations. She focused out of her internal world in favor of her external environment.

Maka had been more than thrilled to learn that the Plains ended and a mountainous ravine took its place. To her, the rough orange and red earth promised refuge and a higher chance of escape for she was almost positive she was being followed. Well, followed at a closer range than she had originally anticipated. The fugitive had hoped that she might actually make it to a major city before she had to worry about an Eater in the Hunt of Souls tailing her. What was worst was the fact that Maka was also pretty positive that the Eater had friends to help him in his conquest. So, in her mind, the twisting caverns and cliffs were a blessing that gave her a hope for survival.

Though they did happen to add a lovely fifth reason to her crappy day: she had no fucking idea where she was going or how to get out of them. The only plan her usually intelligent mind had come up with for the time being was to go as straight as possible as quickly as possible.

Maka continued to peer over her shoulder nervously since the constant sound of the horse's hooves striking the rocky terrain could effectively drown out any noise hinting at pursuit. Presently, the rider was not enjoying her getaway path as the walls and surrounding rock hugged too closely on both sides. Minutes that felt like hours passed as she led the chestnut gelding forward and deeper into the unknown ravine. She missed her previous beast of burden, that black steed moved quicker than a nightmare, but ironically and upsettingly it belonged to the man chasing her.

She soon found herself musing about what set of stars she must have been born under to constantly achieve a new level of bad luck. If anyone had told Maka a few weeks ago that she would end up in a worse place than where she had been for the past year, the poor girl would have laughed in their face. Sure, at this exact moment she was free and, besides the throbbing of her head and side from her scuffle with the Prince, without pain, but in the long term she may actually be in more shit than she was originally…

There was a clatter and a sharp hiss to Maka's far right. Before she was able to adequately assess what had happened, the horse beneath her reared in distress. A normally prepared Maka was unprepared for her ride's skittish reaction and hit the ground with an audible thud as well as a new spot of throbbing to add to the pains of her body. She was shocked that an Infernodant warhorse would respond so violently to a rock falling down the tall ravine. However, the frowning woman quickly jumped when she saw what exactly had startled the now whinnying and thrashing creature.

_More trouble? Dear Adalon what did I do to deserve _this _mess?_

Maka stared in mild horror as a rather large and infuriated kishin swiftly crawled down the wall, dislodging stones that fell like raindrops and announcing its presence with piercing hisses. The girl had no weapon and her present attire offered absolutely no modesty, much less protection against the claws of the oncoming monster.

On a happier note, she was no longer worried about the Eater chasing after her.

If Maka was well rested and healthy, she may have stood a chance against the kishin. Being what she was provided her with an unusual array of…talents, many that would be more than useful in this circumstance. But, the reality of the matter was Maka was a starved, malnourished nineteen year old girl who had been tortured and on the run for the majority of her life. And because of all the stress she had dealt with in the past couple of days she was no longer merely physically weary but mentally drained as well. Add in her foolish little stunt with the Eater Prince and she was set for a yearlong nap, not a fearless battle.

So, the flustered blonde felt a brief wave of relief along with a pang of remorse when the kishin launched itself at the berserk horse instead of the fragile girl. Trying to ignore the squeals of fear and pain and the warm, thick liquid spraying into the air, Maka hurriedly got to her feet and dashed away from the offensive scene.

Unbeknownst to her, a pallid yellow eye watched her escape and black pupils widened as her scent was blown lazily downwind with a small cloud of dust.

* * *

Though the self-appointed leader of the moment would never _ever _admit it…they were lost. Lost in every possible sense of the world. He had no idea what direction they were going, what direction they had come from, or if they were even headed in the same direction as their chosen target.

And, though there was no verbal admission, his companions knew it.

Liz was (miraculously) stewing in silence, her arms crossed tightly over her chest to stop her twitching hands from reaching for one of her many projectile weapons and ensuring that Soul lived. She was not pleased with the way he had snapped at her when she questioned the necessity of the unrelenting pace he had set.

Soul knew he had not given her proper reasoning. The reply of "the girl is weird and I'm scared she's going to somehow get away if even though I sliced her side and cracked her skull and she has no idea where she's going" was not an answer that appeased anyone within the group, but Liz seemed to be taking it the hardest.

Her younger sister was humming lightly to herself and occasionally conversing with a nervous Tsubaki, who was an avid believer of wide, open spaces. Their trek through the Labyrinth Caverns was intensely distressful to the sweet, genteel woman. Her "assassin" partner was lazily lounging on his proud warhorse with half-lidded eyes as though on the verge of falling asleep. One finger was distractedly rubbing against his lips and making a slight popping noise, an action Soul had seen children do in an effort to stay awake. If he hadn't been so frustrated, he might have found the gesture humorous.

Kid was, shockingly, his greatest ally. The dark-haired man sat tall on his horse and had confidently pressed on with minimal insistence from Soul, which in turn caused Liz to be a bit more obliging. He did not appear surprised when the Eater subconsciously dropped his shoulders and hung his head in annoyance at the idea of being lost. According to Kid, it was unavoidable for the group to get a tad bit turned around. How could they avoid getting lost when their entire plan was to chase after someone who did not know where they were going? In his analytical opinion, they were obviously going the right way if they did not know which way they were headed.

However, Liz's silence did not last long. A quick yank of her wrists and her horse halted immediately.

"That is it! I am sorry, my Lord, but I am not moving another step forward." Kid raised an eyebrow, noting that since Elizabeth had _actually _addressed him as was proper she just might be serious. "I swear we have passed that very same rock about three times! We are going in _circles_ and I cannot take it anymore!"

Soul sighed as he stopped Ziel and turned to glare at the angry blonde. It was not entirely affective or impressive since Soul was about as fed up as Liz, which caused his glare to degrade into a pout. Kid said nothing in reply and Black Star was basically asleep with his eyes open. The two other females discreetly exchanged a glance and both agreed with the other's choice not to interfere with the upcoming proceedings.

Once he realized no one was going to retort anything, Soul hastily searched for some argument to Liz. But…he couldn't think of anything reasonable or persuasive to her complaint. She was most likely correct. As markswomen, Liz and Patty had exceptional, unparalleled eyesight. In other words, if the pouting blonde claimed they had walked past the same rock, Soul was inclined to believe her. There was simply one response to that.

"I'm sure you're right, Liz. But…I have to find her. And the tracks are in this direction and…she must have circled…a couple times, I assume…"

She retorted with a growl. "Well, how long do you expect to do this, Soul? If she keeps circling and circling and gets lost in the caverns and then _we _get lost chasing her…then what? It'll be dark in five, maybe six hours. The actual way out of this place would take us about three and staying in the Labyrinths for a night is beyond foolish. You know that!"

Soul huffed stubbornly, but was not one to waste lives. He gave a resigned nod. "I understand, so how about a compromise…we search for another hour. If we don't find any sign of catching up to her or she doesn't cross the way out, then we leave her and wait on the other side."

Liz narrowed icy blue eyes at him. She stared hard for a full minute before she nodded her approval and gestured at the rest of the group. Kid shrugged, as though the situation did not bother or concern him. Soul and Liz skipped over Black Star since he appeared comatose or in a trance at the moment and watched Patty and Tsubaki silently discuss the agreement. Both girls jerked their heads in consent. The pack set on once more with the hunter searching for signs of his quarry in the lead and the tension between members much lighter than previously.

It was then that Patty began the invigorating, pretty much one-sided, discussion on miracles and wishes.

"Don't you think it's strange Tsubaki that there's a difference between wishes and miracles? They're practically the same thing aren't they?"

"Well…" The raven-haired female began to answer but was quickly interrupted. She would soon learn that Patty wasn't nearly as interested in achieving a conclusion to her questions as she was in fulfilling her desire to talk out loud about whatever was flitting through her head.

"And then there's the whole 'wish upon a star,' but 'thank Mortis for miracles' thing. They're the same, but not the same, right? Then, you have dreams and those are somehow different than wishes which are not miracles…and it can all be confusing I think. Right?"

"I think so, and-"

"But, I bet I could tell you what each of us would wish for if we could see a shooting star! Do you bet me, Tsubaki? I know I can do it!" Tsubaki merely smiled merrily at the glowing Patty and gave a nod of affirmation.

"Alright! I bet a trip to the animal collection in Spartoi that I will get it all correct! Okay, so I bet Kid would wish for the whole world to be perfectly symmetrical, right, Kid?" Patty leaned forward eagerly in her saddle, watching Kid's face for any sign of agreement or disagreement. Once he discovered that he was expected to answer, Kid muttered a collected "of course."

"Yay! One complete! So, umm, Tsubaki! You would wish…to not have to kill again, right?" The older woman blinked and the majority of the group tensed as they all were reminded of Patty's deeper, more perceptive side. With sapphire eyes darkened to an almost violet color, Tsubaki silently murmured something that sounded like a 'yes.' Always uncharacteristically sensitive to Tsubaki's moods, Black Star suddenly sprang to life, glaring fiercely at the celebrating Patty. He wisely held his tongue once he noticed Liz's still hauntingly cold eyes watching him. They all were aware that Patty had not meant the comment to hurt the sweet Healer's feelings or bring about unpleasant memories.

"Four more to go! Well, Black Star is an easy one. You would wish to surpass god, wouldn't you, Black Star?"

The blue-haired assassin snorted in disdain. "I don't need some puny rock in the sky to let me surpass god! _I _am the star! And _I_ have already surpassed god! YAHOO!" Everyone but Patty and Tsubaki groaned as Black Star's insane laughter echoed and bounced off the surrounding rock.

Patty rolled her powdery blue eyes and stuck a tongue out. "Your dummy opinion doesn't count as fact, Black Star! And you know that you would wish upon a star to surpass god in a heartbeat! So, my record is untarnished as of yet, right, Tsubaki?" The woman had lost her poorer mood, opting instead to be the dutiful partner of Black Star and mother of the group by attempting to calm the fully energized assassin down.

"Yes, yes, go on, Patty. You're doing great!"

There was a flash of brilliant white teeth before Patty closed her mouth and pursed her lips in contemplation. "Hmm…Sister would wish for us to live with Kid always, so that's another simple matter…" There was a squeak from Liz and a guffaw from Soul and Black Star in response to this statement. Kid threw a startled glance at the normally outspoken woman, but she continued to ride in silence and would not meet the others' curious gazes. Her unashamed sister proceeded with her list, either ignoring or not noticing the awkward atmosphere she had created.

"I would wish for my own pet giraffe, of course, and that leaves Soul…hmm…oh!" The bright golden-haired girl bounced in excitement, causing her horse to shake his head as a sign of his slight discomfort, while snapping her fingers. "I know! I know! Soul would wish for that girl to appear!"

It was about this time that Soul's obedient and well-trained warhorse reared in surprise-or, perhaps, recognition, as a dirty, unusual shape slid down the side of one of the rock walls. It eventually landed in a heap before Soul and the rest of the adults. There was a drawn out moan from the tangled mass and the whole group, minus Patty, gaped as the disjointed pieces of the shape straightened out into a human figure.

In spite of the different colors, the Eater instantly knew who stood before them. Under the chalky orange that covered the individual, he could glimpse pale skin and white gold hair…The prize, as Soul didn't know what else to call her, shakily clawed her way to the rock wall she had slipped down and pulled herself up into a jaunted leaning position. She grunted in what he guessed was either vexation or pain before tilting her head to the sky and groaning.

"Someone please…just kill me now…"

No one spoke, each quite confused as to the proper way to respond to this event. Only childish Patty had the ability to proceed without thinking. She squealed in excitement, almost falling backwards off her horse as she pointed at the girl that had, quite literally, 'appeared.'

"Oh, Lord Mortis, it's a miracle!" Then, the bubbly blonde gasped before enthusiastically twisting to face Tsubaki. "Hey, I think I understand it now!"

The prize violently jerked as though lightning had struck her body and glanced to her left at the six people surrounding her. She twitched once more as though shocked to find that she was not alone any longer. A twisted, bitter laugh escaped her throat. Soul's eyebrows quickly melded with his hairline as he watched the prize bang her head against the rock she hugged and held herself up with.

"Oh, for Adalon's sake, I wasn't serious! Why is it _now _the gods decide to listen to me?"

The highly distressed female moaned into the dust that coated her skin and hair. Her tiny body shuddered again before her head snapped up in their direction. Bright emeralds met wide rubies as the prize immediately understood the severity of her situation. He was soon released from her piercing stare as her eyes flashed to each of his companions and then to the way she came from. Then, trembling and shaking worse than a war banner in a storm, she pushed off from the rock wall and attempted to make a run towards a decidedly unsafe, miniscule path to Kid's far right.

Unfortunately, Kid had also deduced who the young woman had to be, and agilely dismounted to the ground. He met the fleeing girl head on, ensnared her waist, and used her momentum to toss her heavily to the rocky terrain below them. There was a sharp twist in Soul's gut when she briefly cried out in what was unmistakably pain.

Kid's actions seemed to wake up the others and Liz, Soul, and Black Star hastily got off of their horses to assist him. Tsubaki and Patty also dismounted, but seemed uncomfortable, at least in the older woman's case, in joining the tangle of bodies.

Though obviously weak and injured, the female apparently did not understand the meaning of the word 'surrender,' a quality that impressed the four people who eventually managed to restrain her. Soul wondered for a second, despite how hard the young girl was fighting, if she cared whether she lived or died. The question plagued his mind when he saw Liz pull out a gun in the hopes that it would scare the struggling girl into submission. What had astonished the markswoman, the Duke, the assassin, and the Prince was that the prize did not even flinch when threatened with a bullet to the face. But, whether because of her injuries, her fatigue, or because she knew she could not escape, the girl finally relaxed in her captors' arms, allowing them to bind her loosely.

The group of self-proclaimed wranglers stared nervously at the glaring, petite woman tied at their feet. Occasionally she would break that ferocious stare to glance distractedly around them, especially focusing and watching the rock wall path she had slid down. Eventually, she, to everyone's surprise, was the one to shatter the silence.

"You really don't want me tied up. And you _really _don't want to do this here."

Her statement wasn't directed at any one person, but Soul believed it was safe to assume she was speaking to him.

"Look…I'm, we're, not going to hurt you. Yes, I'm an Eater and I'm in the Hunt of Souls, but I don't want to…what I mean is…I just…I need to talk to you."

The girl snorted in disdain or maybe it was disbelief, but started coughing from the irritating noise she made. The anxious Prince felt more than guilty as the fragile creature hugged her bony arms closer to her chest in an effort to still the ragged breaths pouring out of her. He could feel the eyes of his friends studying every expression and movement on his and the girl's face, wondering how he would handle this situation.

Ironically, Soul was pondering the same thing.

_What in the hell do I do now that I have her? I can't exactly…interrogate her in the middle of the Labyrinth Caverns with all of them watching…can I?_

"You don't understand, you idiot!" She finally snapped out. "We can play 'Hunt of Souls' later, Eater. But as of right now, you and your little hunting crew need to untie me, give me a horse, and get the hell out of here! Just trust me when I say you do not want me here right now."

For a minute, everyone was silent and wore the same expression of shock. Soon enough, Kid's shock turned to suspicion and calculation, Black Star's changed to pleased mania, Tsubaki's morphed into confused fear, Patty's was replaced with distracted innocence, and Liz started laughing.

"Is it bad if I kind of like her spirit?"

Soul and the prize reacted simultaneously and almost identically. While he snarled and glared, she hissed and narrowed her eyes.

"I don't want someone like _you _to like me!" The dirtied female barked angrily. "I just can't die yet and I'd feel bad with your blood on my hands."

Her answer stopped Soul from replying to Liz's traitorous comment, mainly because it was so unexpected. The way she said both phrases sounded…odd to him. As if there were a deeper meaning lurking underneath the surface of her words. Then, the prize's eyes widened and she raised her attached wrists to point somewhere past the people crowded around her.

The six friends looked behind them to find their horses bucking wildly, with Ziel as the exception. Twelve eyes grew large as they located the cause of the beasts' tantrums.

"…Will the gods _ever _give me a fucking break?"

Soul couldn't help letting the strangled yell escape as they watched a ginormous kishin slide down the exact same wall the prize had fallen down.

The disproportionate behemoth hissed lowly and deeply, a twisted and bitter response to Soul's question. Though larger than the typical kishin, this one happened to be uglier than most as well. Its front two appendages were long and leathery with three vicious yellowed claws on the end, causing a lump to grow in Soul's throat. He knew that some kishins had wings…and the slender dark brown bumpy poles it used for 'arms' certainly appeared to be folded skin. The back half of its body melted from the rough brown material into upraised, triangular scales. They shone a dull dark green underneath the overlay of dust and sand of the surrounding rock. Its left back 'leg' had numerous thin, jointed 'toes' that reminded Soul of lizards' feet. The other merely ended in a stump, hinting, along with the many jagged scars and cuts on the creature's middle, that this particular kishin was violent in fights. Soul found himself focusing in on malicious, devilish yellow eyes set in a viper-like head bound to a lean, scaled neck.

The kishin watched closely before it unhinged its jaw to reveal at least three crooked rows of needle shaped teeth and unleashed a fearsome roar at the startled group. As the noise vibrated Soul's eardrums faster than a hummingbird could beat its wings, the Infernodant Prince had one of those rare instances where he was exceptionally thankful he was "cursed" with weapon's blood and Eater's madness. Though most of the time the white-haired hunter feared the abilities and urges buried deep within, here he had a chance to use the raw destructive force of his race for the greater good. Here Soul could save lives.

Cruelly and with a strange twisted grin in place, the tied woman spoke. "I told you that you wouldn't want me here right now…"

A foreboding, heavy _something _rippled down Soul's tensed back, sensitive hairs on his hairline and neck standing straight at attention. He foolishly broke eye contact with the screaming abomination to glance at the unfathomable woman. Her expression was drawn and blank, but somehow Soul knew to translate the quiver on the bottom left corner of her mouth and the eerie darkening of her iris from spring green to olive to mean that she was experiencing fear and…guilt?

The entirely too close screech of a sharp object raking against metal claimed Soul's attention. He whirled to find Black Star crouched protectively in front of him, a slender, smoky gray blade the only barrier between his warm flesh and the kishin's hooked front claws.

"Soul! We could use an Infernodant hunter right about now! Not a pretty princess!" The assassin yelled in a voice colored with the strain of keeping their death at bay.

Soul blinked, watching as the children of the nations of Adalon did…well, what they did best.

While most children were given rag dolls to play with, Liz and Patty were given guns and bombs. Kid was raised in Death City in Lord Mortis' palace surrounded by training weapons and their partners. It was only natural for him to be trained in case of attempts on his life. He whipped out twin pistols in a bright blur of silver while his guards had their hands full of weapons from Adalon knows where. The warped rifle settled and cradled effortlessly in Patty's arms was almost as tall as its user. In that way that only long time partners can, the three fired simultaneously each bullet hitting a different weak spot.

As planned, the creature's venomous glare turned from Black Star and Soul to the pests attacking it from the right. It lunged towards the three, spiked tail slicing the air around it and maw howling in protest. Kid and Patty moved to the right, easily avoiding the danger of tail, teeth, and claws.

Liz, however, stayed put. In an unbelievable display of flexibility and speed, the markswoman dropped to her knees and folded her back to the ground, releasing three rapid shots as the kishin landed practically on top of her. The beast threw back its head with a sound Soul had never heard before, a bell-like thrum that shook the very earth.

"Liz!" Kid bellowed, eyes dark in his concern.

She didn't reply, too involved with dodging the kishin's front limbs which were currently attempting to pin her down beneath it. Her sharp sight caught a pattern in the movements and as soon as she could she was up and out from underneath the belly of the beast, bangs plastered to her forehead with sweat. Liz tilted her gun in aim once more, but the monster seemed to catch on to her actions. She was too quick for it to stop her firing the first and second time, but before she could release a third penetrating shot to the tough hide, the kishin's tail bashed into her. Her expert reflexes saved her from a spike to the chest, her weapon angled just right to parry the majority of the blow, but this did not keep her from flying backwards from the force.

Patty, who was not one to leave her sister defenseless and injured, immediately discharged every single bullet the gun could hold. Even when it ran empty, Soul saw that her finger didn't let off the trigger. A couple seconds later and the useless barrel was tossed to the side and another equally powerful firearm was pulled out of nowhere. The rain of bullets continued in the kishin's direction and, though it was furiously stomping towards her, the projectiles banging into it slowed its progress.

When it gave a loud squeal, Patty laughed maniacally and pointed gleefully at the dark brown liquid running down one of its sides. "First blood is mine!"

During Patty's distraction, Kid had run to Liz, lifting her to her feet and maneuvering them to a safer position. At the youngest member of their group's call of blood, Black Star pounced, unable to stand being shown up. He threw the yellow-haired markswoman a demeaning smirk.

"First blood may be yours, but only a god like me could kill this accursed demon! Let the greatest star in history obliterate you with his god-surpassing power!"

Kid rolled his eyes, Liz scrunched her nose, and Patty grimaced. "What a dramatic assassin…"

Black Star leaped high into the air, twisting in a perfect semicircle that gave him the opportunity to slash the back of the creature's neck without any fear of being hit by its weapons. The cloudy sword in his hands cut the unyielding hide of the kishin smoothly as though it were nothing but air. But that was unsurprising as Tsubaki's demon weapon form could put every other sharp object to shame.

Patty pouted for a bit before deciding she couldn't stand Black Star bragging the whole rest of the way to Spartoi. Thus, she took matters into her own hands.

She shot, Black Star swung. Kid and Liz watched and, though she urged him to join as his desire was plainly etched on his face, he refused. He insisted that if the kishin came their way Liz's legendary fast feet wouldn't be able to save her with the size of the gash on her leg, so he naturally had to look over her.

Soul was still frozen. For whatever reason the whole situation indicated wrongness and he couldn't force himself to move. He was usually in the middle of the fray, dealing blows with Black Star.

But this time he was immobile. He didn't want to admit it, but he was almost positive it dealt with the bound woman behind him. She was his responsibility after all, and he didn't feel comfortable fighting far away from her with this wild and unruly kishin attacking them.

His instincts were proven right the moment he adjusted his position. One step to the left. That was all it took.

The kishin up until this point had been getting more and more enraged which made its movements sloppier. More blood than scales or skin was visible at this point as Black Star and Patty relentlessly wounded it. They were smiling as they swirled around and countered and injured the behemoth. But the second Soul moved, the kishin moved also.

Luminous pale yellow eyes, paler now with the creature caked in its dark brown blood, fixed on Soul and started towards him. It grunted as Patty and Black Star continued to obstruct its path but its vicious, bloodthirsty eyes were no longer constantly looking for the pests slowly bleeding it dry. In fact, it briefly unfolded expansive wings to push its previous aggressors to the side. Nothing stood in its way any longer.

He readied himself, arm getting hotter and hotter as he prepared to meet it head on with his own demon weapon powers. Tsubaki's form had been efficient; his blade should cut just as well.

But he was yet again distracted by _that_ voice.

"Untie me! Release me! Please, you have to untie me!" He could hear her panting and struggling against her bindings. "Untie me now!"

Soul's weight shifted from foot to foot, mere moments to consider his options. It was Kid who made the decision for him.

"Holy Adalon, Soul, _untie the damn girl_!"

So he did. Oh, hell, she was free.

And…wait…what was she doing?

She was running straight at the kishin. No hesitation, a tiny flash of fear. But her green eyes were blazing and they shone far greater than that of the abomination's.

She came to a standstill and so did the kishin. It roared in her face, heated breath blowing her hair back.

And her response? Hell, she roared _back_.

The next few minutes were indescribable. There were no words to summarize what happened. The kishin and the girl circled one another, making noises no creature, kishin or not and certainly no human _female_ should ever make. But it only lasted for a few minutes.

Then, it lunged and Soul saw its intent to kill her. She dodged, though just barely, but was thrown into the nearby rock. The prize was not as lucky as Liz, whose legs hit first. Instead she was knocked unconscious, her head and back slapping the wall with a sickening _crunch_. Soul wondered if she was dead.

He hoped not, as the beast was not yet satisfied with her and continued after her motionless body. Surely that meant she remained in the living world.

Apparently, Kid deemed the kishin's path too close for comfort as he spurred himself into action. He raised his pistols and fired five consecutive shots. One must've hit the kishin square in the eye because the thing collapsed, squealing and keening. Brown liquid poured out of its opening and closing jaw. It seized twice before coming to a standstill. It didn't move again.

The five companions stared, chests heaving and large droplets of sweat rolling down flushed faces. Soul licked his lips and cringed as the salty, gritty taste of dirt and sweat coated his tongue. They stood without moving for some time until Black Star bent to carefully set Tsubaki's sword form on the ground. In a crackle of energy, she emerged, looking as exhausted, though not as sweaty, as the rest of them.

The assassin studied his partner to ensure she sustained no injuries before sauntering over to the kishin's body and kicking it. He bore a remorseful expression and turned to throw Kid a sullen frown.

"How dare you take my glory, Kid! You killed it…" Kid snorted.

"Well, excuse me, for saving mine, Liz's, and…" They all as one unit glanced at the fixed body lying awkwardly against the rock.

Soul crept forward reluctantly. He was uncomfortably pleased with discovering the prize breathing shallowly. Kid peered over his shoulder, gold eyes calculating.

"I think I understand what you meant earlier…about trying to figure out what's going on." Soul nodded. There was no reason to restate his opinion when Kid understood. "Whatever Prince Wesleyan said, this prize is no common virgin."

Soul's head jerked up and down in that same motion he did a second ago. Despite the fact Kid and the rest of his company were going to assist him in getting to the bottom of this, he couldn't stop himself from worrying over the possible difficulties he'd encounter when dealing with this…girl? No, creature. When dealing with this creature of unknown intent.

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**Closing...Whatever: **Yes, yes I know I'm being a tease about Maka and all that...don't worry, there will be more teasing in a few more chapters before the entire situation is explained and the plot thickens a bit more. Sorry about that! I have this issue with suspense...still, hoped you liked it! I can't promise, but I'm crossing my fingers and praying chapter 4 won't take as long to get done with! See ya!

-D Taylor


	5. Spartoi, the Inevitable City

**Author's Note: **Okayyy, so here is Chapter 4. I am sorry it took so long! I'll be honest and open and say that I wasn't particularly thrilled with what happened with it...I probably rewrote the chapter like two or three times. I accomplished everything I had planned but...I don't know. Maybe it's just me. So here ya go! Have fun! Let me know if I passed.

P.S.: Happy Valentine's (or Single Awareness) Day! Hope you had a good one!

P.P.S: Special thanks to snowbunnie13 for beta'ing! And a thanks to my guests who reviewed cause I can't send you a thanks over a PM! :)

**Disclaimer: **3-6-9 the-brightest-fell drank wine, she thought she'd own Soul Eater if she signed; the pen broke, Atsushi Okubo choked-and they all went to Shibusen in a little row boat. Yeah, I don't own that song/rhyme/rhythm or Soul Eater...

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Chapter 4-Spartoi, the Inevitable City

"_In the beginning of Adalon's colonization and the agreement between the nations, two cities were chosen as potential capitals to house the god of Adalon, Lord Mortis. The first of these was at the time locally named Coulissen. Coulissen was a centrally located stronghold, bordered on all sides by dense forests, though none as dense as the Grigori to the northwest. The city had the potential to grow large and contained numerous resources left from the Resonators stay in the area including regal, sturdy architecture with frighteningly well-constructed hidden pathways. Thus, this city was chosen and christened 'Death City' for the god of Death residing in it as well as a reminder of the law and punishment set up for the skittish, violent nations. _

_The second city, which was the original capital of Adalon until the first wars between the nations, was called Spartoi. To its inhabitants who claimed the peculiar, alive city their home, it became known as the Inevitable City as it was full of the inevitable and unending possibilities. This title was fueled by the majority of its denizens, which are of the younger generation. Due to the inventive and creative minds living within, the bustling city runs on technology and magic not seen anywhere else in Adalon other than its neighbor and sister cities of Shirnobul and Death City. Transportation animals are housed on the outskirts of the once-capital as a certain machine is used behind its walls to get persons to their destinations. _

_Several in power have expressed their dislike and suspicion of the experimental cities of Shirnobul and Spartoi, but in my personal opinion, both cities are an extraordinary example of the hope of Adalon's nations to come together. Throughout my travels, I have not stumbled across any city or town more diverse and accepting of all kinds of Adalonians such as I have witnessed in Spartoi. There is no discrimination and not much trouble, though there is a sense of 'lawlessness' and 'whatever can happen will happen' in both areas, that allows Spartoi, the Inevitable City, and Shirnobul, the City of Creation, the ability to live up to their names."_

Excerpt of "Death City, the Everlasting Capital" from _The Book of Eibon_

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The straining protest of her overworked and most likely dehydrated muscles sobered Maka's foggy mind faster than she thought was necessary. Pricks from sharp objects, similar to needles, could be felt racing up and down her body from the tips of her toes to her cautiously flexing fingers. What was today? And where in Adalon was she? Everything felt weird and heavy. There was the sensation that something other than skin covered her head and left side and she gingerly raised fumbling hands for an inspection. Wearily, her fingertips lightly brushed across thick bandages wrapped meticulously on the split in her side and around her head. The thin, airy material of gold she was unfortunately becoming accustomed to remained as a cover over her body. Thankfully.

Ignoring (or trying to ignore) her taut and pulsing form, the girl sat up shakily, using one hand thrown out to her side to steady herself and the other rubbing her sleep-filled eyes. Maka's hand holding her up moved along the soft, silken material under her, blearily wondering what it was. It wasn't until her pupils had dilated enough to see the room that it registered she was on a bed clothed in extremely expensive sheets. Said sheets were tangled and half thrown onto the floor, a testament of her thrashing nightly movements. To her far left another equally large bed with slightly crumpled sheets stood proud and tall. A delicate shiver rolled down her spine. Though it hurt her burdened body, she did not attempt to suppress it. It was more than disconcerting to consider she had not slept alone in this large room.

The east wall of the room nearest her bed was covered with thick maroon curtains stretched from floor to ceiling. She guessed they hid blinding light from expansive windows. Maka had not seen a room of this size for quite some time and found herself on edge again. The last place that came to mind was the room that she stayed in at Lord Mortis' palace in Death City and that particular instance had not ended in her favor.

Besides the great divide between the two king-sized beds, there was more than enough walking space between the walls and the bed and the dressers and the bed and the dressers and the wall…Ah, hell, there was just way too much space in here. Maka irately imagined the wall across from her covered in four normal beds rather than the very bare but ornately carved wardrobe and vanity set. Whoever's room this was could house all the homeless people in Adalon while currently her pathetic form was the only thing residing in it. It made her feel smaller and weaker than usual.

Somehow she gathered the strength to scoot her bent and creaking self to the edge of the mattress before gently sliding down to the floor. Maka cringed as her feet slapped the ground hard despite her slow intentions. She briefly apologized to her swore appendages and swollen ankles as she proceeded to move in jerky, stiff motions towards the heavy cherry oak door. It took a couple of tries before her hand would grab the solid obsidian door handle properly, but eventually fingers curled and, though it felt like her arm and shoulder were screaming at her, she pushed the door open.

_Where in the _hell_ am I?_

Behind the once closed door was an even grander room than the one she awoke in. The color scheme that made up the aesthetics of this room was not the deep red and black or grey of the bedroom, but a lighter mixture of browns, whites, and occasionally a cool mint green. Her eyes slammed shut, the light streaming in from the window wall to the far right searing her fragile retinas. Perhaps the whole east side of the damn building was one big window. How brilliant of the builders.

Maka knew she was being bitter for no reason, though her spotty vision vehemently disagreed, because she was in an unknown place at an unknown time and, if the other bed was any indication, an unknown person. With this in mind, she studied the circular room from the safety of the doorway of "her" bedroom prepared to jump in and shut the door at the first sign of danger.

Once her eyes had adjusted to the light streaming in, the wary girl peered from her post in the doorway, praying the view would offer some hint at her whereabouts. She was presented with a wide aerial presentation of an impressively compact and far-reaching city. Colored smoke billowed out and up from lean, tall cylinders perched atop bulky structures while smaller houses dotted the spaces in between them. Maka had never seen so many buildings in one place and, despite the advantageous lookout she had, could not comprehend the twisted and cramped layout of the bustling metropolis. Every few seconds pinpricks of light would momentarily blind her as the sun's rays were reflected off huge panes of glass that served as rooftops and pipes coiling around and about edifices like vines curling between trees in a forest.

Half of her was in awe of the dramatic panorama while the other half mourned the sheer vastness of the obviously heavily populated area. Plus, she still had no clue where she was. It wasn't Death City like she wished it to be, which left at least two or three other possibilities. Cities about the same size as the capital that she had never glimpsed and could not name. Thus, she turned to the room for answers.

A spacious kitchen gleamed with metallic machinery Maka was both familiar and unfamiliar with—copper "stoves" and more bronze pipes and a fancy, deep-bowled sink on the far left. Her distracted, buzzing mind was filled with wonder at the sight; despite the fact that she could name such things she had never been privileged to witness them in reality. Her mother's explanations and descriptions from times past were the sources of her knowledge, but it was a new sensation to experience them herself.

Her attention was held in that direction as she saw another large brown door to the left of the cooking area. From the setup of the room Maka decided it had to be the actual entrance and exit. The words 'inn' and 'suite' bounced noisily in the back of her mind as though determined to notify her conscious reality of where she was, if only to abate some of her nervousness. More words, more new things. But she could not get distracted. It would be wise to keep her head clear.

The hypothesis of being in some extravagant inn with suites accepted, she continued on with her wanderings steadily gaining the courage to exit the doorway since no one had appeared yet. Her ears constantly alert for any sound, Maka crept forward. There were three other doors over by the hellish window, one along the right wall and the other two against the left. How many people were here?

Blurry images of rocky caverns, a furious monster, six bodies surrounding her, and flashing red eyes swam lazily to the forefront of her mind and, like the snap of a whip on a horse, her memories kicked into place. She remembered her attack, her escape, being lost, being found, and then fighting the kishin. And something…else. Darkness and yelling and a weird bouncing motion. Huh.

Her gaze was drawn to the very lengthy and very welcoming white couch facing away from her and centered in the suite. Maka could feel her crying and sore limbs. The pain that thrummed through her body matched the uncomfortable sensation of her too dry mouth and sandpaper tongue. How many days did she sleep? With the desert in her mouth, it could've been as long as a week. Although, she'd most likely be dead by now if that were the case.

As her poor, complaining feet began their trek to the couch, she quietly hummed to herself, consciousness fluttering and dancing with sluggish half formed thoughts. It was strange, that little hill on the otherwise smooth shape of the furniture. Who would ruin the curvature of the couch with an untidy blob randomly in the middle of it?

Wait…was that blob _moving_?

Apparent blob happened to not be a blob at all. In fact, as the white cloud-like shape turned she soon realized that a face was attached to the other side of the blob. So…what she had been staring at and musing over actually was a misshapen pile of white hair, hair that was so light in color that it matched the couch.

White hair? That meant…

Shouldn't she be running right about now?

"Oh, Lord Mortis, you're alive!"

Husky voice. Male voice. It assaulted her as the owner quickly stood up, peering anxiously at her. She was too close to the couch and too far from the room. Damn it! When had her exhausted body gotten this close?

"I _told _Black Star not to hit you on the head again. Tsubaki and Kid agreed with me, but he's not exceptional at listening or following orders. I thought for sure you would pass on with three hits to the head in less than a day."

What was he talking about? A black star? A kid? Three hits to the head? All she could recall was her head meeting his and her match with the rocky wall after the kishin threw her. In daylight. Which meant there weren't stars were there?

But as he spoke the darkness and yelling memory sharpened and cleared. The motion…she had been on a horse in between two strong, steady arms. The yelling was an argument over what to do as she had woken up yowling and screaming louder than an angered wildcat in the middle of the night. And someone had smacked her in the head again, effectively sentencing her to a more pressing darkness once more.

The man before her was the Eater. She remembered that part, too. Unfortunately, his body was in better shape than hers. He seemed unnaturally fast as he scrambled around the white obstruction and headed her way. Her trembling legs had to be given credit as she tried to awkwardly shuffle backwards; it wasn't really their fault that she hadn't eaten or had water since her run in with the Infernodant family in the shed on the Plains. Which had to have at least been a day. A nice inn providing a wondrous suite like the one they were located in could only mean they were in a large city and large cities were far away from the original road they crossed paths on.

Maka wasn't extremely surprised when her knees failed her and her previously bruised tailbone met harshly with the floor. She understood the limits of her body a little too well. The white-haired man, which she proudly saw bore a scuffed up left cheek and ring of blue around his neck, took an even larger step in her direction before she screamed.

"Don't touch me! Stay away!"

She hadn't expected him to listen. In fact, Maka had been silently jeering at her stupid "orders" as she believed them to be useless. But the Eater's movements jerked to a halt and his hands raised high into the air, a placating gesture. Scarlet orbs appraised her fallen form with a weird guilty, anxious look that made her blood both run cold and spark furiously. He had no reason to feel guilty…unless…

Lightly messed bed sheets and the twisted sheets of the bed she had woken up on flashed behind her blinking lids. Had he…been with her? Taken advantage of her unconscious state? Oh Adalon the burning in her eyes better not be tears! That was not what Maka did in painful and dangerous situations.

"You raped me!" She accused, the words fumbling out before her brain could reel them back in. That was more like her. She would fight him and make him pay for what he had done.

"WHAT?" His face split into a chagrined, bemused expression. And shock. Shock was very apparent on his reddening face. "Where the hell did _that _come from? I haven't even stepped foot in your room! What did your mother teach you? Mine, messed up as she is, still taught _me _that a man doesn't sleep in the same room with an unknown woman. Especially one with a cracked skull!"

She sharply glared daggers at the man before her, unsure whether he was telling the truth. His confusion as to her thought process and recklessly spewed conclusion did seem genuine. It didn't make sense for him _not _to do it though, which was why she clung to that possibility. Still in a staring battle with the huffing Infernodant Prince, she cautiously prodded her inner thighs. His cheeks blushed darker, but he kept his Eater mouth shut which she later would learn was an impressive feat of self-control. As Maka wriggled her hips and stretched her legs, she concluded the twinges and twitching of her muscles were not the proof of any assault other than the ones she had endured previously and consciously. Her neck flushed with slight mortification of accusing someone of raping her skinny ass of all things, so she skipped over the apology and continued with a safer train of thought and question.

"…why am I here? Wait, no, first, _where _am I?"

His shoulders relaxed slightly despite his hands remaining partially in the air. Probably glad she was no longer condemning him of deflowering her in her sleep.

"Uh, Spartoi." On the inside, Maka began to cry. Spartoi? Dear Adalon, she'd never make it out of here alive. "At Cross and Bones Inn. I believe our room number is 424. Kid has…issues with non-symmetrical things and since four multiplied by two is eight, which just so happens to be a symmetrical number, we got this room and Liz and Patty weren't happy cause we had to carry you and all our stuff to the fourth floor, but at least it was better than dealing with Kid having one of his fits and-"

"Do you _always _babble so incessantly? How unbecoming of a royal. Did your mother forget to teach you that?" Maka sarcastically interrupted, angrily glowering at the current bane of her existence. Who was acting too amicably towards her…as though he hadn't kidnapped her and didn't plan on Eating her!

Frankly, she'd rather go ahead and get this over with. She could feel a slight swimming motion in the back of her skull and was sure that unless food and water were in her belly pronto she wouldn't have any chance of escaping. Though currently the whole notion of escape was quite laughable…

Shady pools thinned into slits, the polite light in them fading fast. There was a sick nauseous feeling in the pit of her stomach to accompany the sloshing in her head as his dangerous gaze locked onto her. "Watch yourself, _prize_. I am the one who, I don't know, _saved_ your life from a kishin and am currently protecting you. You should be grateful."

Maka wasn't the best at 'watching herself.'

"Saved my life? Last I remember you had me tied up like an animal and didn't seem too keen on letting me go! And grateful!" She scoffed, eyes matching the shape of his. Her actions were her shell, her armor. She absolutely refused to alert him to how much he intimidated and scared her. "Oh, forgive me, oh almighty Prince and Eater of Inferno. I completely forgot to thank you for capturing me and so _mercifully_ waiting until I was conscious to rape me and steal my soul. So sorry. It won't happen again!"

"What the fuck is with you and being raped? Lord Mortis, woman! I'll utter it once more for your thick skull! I. Am. Not. Going. To. Rape. You!"

Maka tried to hide the tiny quivers and goose bumps that popped up on her frame. He hadn't denied anything about Eating her…"As if I'm dumb enough to believe you. Do what you want with me, Eater. I swear whatever you do, you'll regret it! And I'm not going to make it easy."

The man, to her surprise, shuddered from her threat. A faraway, glazed look dulled red embers while his mouth quirked down and to the left slightly in a sour grimace. "I…know that. I remember. What exactly did you do to me back then? And the kishin? That was...odd."

She had been shivering from adrenaline and fear, but these words, spoken with a casual cadence but a curious undertone, stopped her shakes more effectively than her own will. Against her better nature, Maka broke eye contact with the Eater and twisted to the side no longer directly facing him. It was a vulnerable, susceptible position, but she wryly thought that it wasn't going to do any more harm to the situation. She _was _already on the fourth floor locked in a suite with an incredibly weak vessel that had trouble carrying her to the bedroom, much less down the inn and out into a busy city. What did it matter so long as she died with her precious secrets intact?

"I don't know what that means. Is it supposed to be some Eater-victim Infernodant code? No one told me the rules of this game."

A rather appealing smirk lazily replaced his apprehensive gaze. "You left before they were explained."

Maka didn't bother replying, instead opting to pull her knees to her chest and set her chin atop of them. He was obviously toying with her. Playing with his food. Nothing to do but wait for him to act. Was it a good thing or a bad thing that he was going to Eat her without that binding physical action? On the one hand, it provided more dignity and honor to her demise, but at the same time the pain of the physical shell would be a nice distraction to the pain of being consumed wholly in mind and spirit. That white hot tearing and ripping sensation of someone biting into her very soul…she trembled. Physical aches or attacks were nothing compared to that.

"Forgive me, Your Highness, for fleeing my doom so soon. I had some previous engagements to attend to before I was consumed by you and yours."

Her cocky, "noble" reply amused him further and the smirk grew in size. "I'm afraid I can't do that. You see, a hunter never forgives its prey." He took a step forward. "A hunter retaliates." Another step. "He gets revenge." The Eater stood directly over her. "And an Infernodant hunter does _more _than that."

_Here we go…_

Maka finally reconnected with his eyes: a tense clash of rubies and emeralds, neither backing down. It was a familiar position. Though terrified beyond belief, if the chill spreading through her blood was any indication, and certain her end was nigh, Maka clung to her pride. "And a-" She hastily clamped her mouth shut, appalled she had almost admitted to her heritage. The Prince noticed the action and that weird curious guilt-driven gleam shimmered in crimson depths as she hurriedly backtracked to cover her mistake. "And, um, I don't react kindly to threats. Many a fool has paid dearly for underestimating me."

_Fucking idiot. I can't even lie to myself and say it was a 'nice save.'_

The Eater nodded as though he had expected this reaction. He released a loud, breathy sigh, so close his exhale tickled the edges of her hair, and shrugged. "Well, then. I see only a few options presented to us, prize."

…what?

Wait, was he serious? Options? As in plural? As in she just might _not_ die or be Eaten today?

"…Go on."

"The first is I consume your soul." He watched her face sag with terror and twist into a scowl in a pathetic attempt to hide it. She made sure her retort was explosive.

"I _dare _you to try, you son of a demon! Next time I'll turn your disgusting Infernodant soul _into _an inferno! What do you think of that irony? You'll be nothing but a blubbering body with nothing but ash on the inside and-"

"Calm your miniscule bosom, woman! That's merely the first option. In your state, you should keep your heart calm." Her teeth slammed together with a _click_ as a brow rose up questioningly. His eyes rolled in a disbelieving circle. "Dear Mortis, I don't think you've been fed in weeks. So shut your mouth and calm down for a moment here! I'm not murdering you this minute, though you _will _end up killing yourself."

Maka's lips opened wide ready to let another annoyed retort fly out when it dawned on her he was mostly right. The uneven stuttering of her heart and clenching of muscles eating themselves was an unpleasant, constant reminder that she truly was deprived of nutrients and sustenance. With anger and fatigue fuzzing in her ears, along with that "miniscule bosom" comment, she snapped her jaw close a second time and hoped her simmering glare would be enough to emit her displeasure.

"The second choice is to bind you to me. Either action would keep you safe and give me victory in the Hunt of Souls. You wouldn't have to run anymore."

Maka blanched, tongue swelling and choking her. Was that it then? Was this truly the end? To be destroyed and devoured or to be a shell of what she once was, a prisoner in her own body? That bastard…dangling hope before her and then ripping it away like teasing a dog with a bone. The drowning depression of her failure smothered her and this time when the heat of tears pricked the back of her eyes she gave two the opportunity to escape. The Eater's shimmery eyebrows met in the middle of his forehead as he watched them drift aimlessly down her cheekbone.

There.

There it was again.

There was that unnatural glint of guilt hiding behind red glass like a flame flickering behind a colored window. He didn't seem any more pleased with the options he presented either.

The defeated girl barely flinched as her enemy crouched to her eye level. It was an unconscious survival reaction that didn't have much of a point in her current predicament. Maka didn't think she would be able to survive a hungry, mad Eater soul for very long with mind, body, and soul as defenseless as they were. Sure, she talked big, but at the moment her threats were worth less than kishin shit. Hope bubbled up without her consent when she saw a hesitant idea hovering in those sunrise tinted eyes. A memory, a lesson with her mother, sounded dimly from somewhere.

"**Eyes are like a looking glass, Maka. They mirror a person's very core, their soul. They cannot lie should you dare to peer into them."**

"There is…well, you're not going to like it, but, personally, I find it more bearable and preferable to the other…choices. We could…come to a compromise of sorts. An agreement." His eyes held hers, relentlessly searching them as she searched his. Somehow, he understood her impassive stare to be encouragement. "I…need to win this…tradition. I have to. But, I don't want to harm anyone. In fact, I'm beginning to realize I _refuse _to harm anyone. I won't embrace such primal madness and urges, not at the sake of an innocent. So…I figured we could help one another. You're running from Eaters because you're the prize and I need the prize to win the Hunt of Souls. If we work together, perhaps we can turn both situations in our favor. You pretend to be bound to me, and I win. I'll discreetly 'release you' a month later and no ones the wiser. This way I'm safe and you're safe. Should other Eaters assume you are bound to me, they shouldn't mess with you."

His voice, compelling to her in a way that was unfamiliar and that had nothing to do with his plan, steadily grew louder until he was shouting in excitement. It seemed unreal to Maka that he was this riled up about saving her…well, saving the both of them. He didn't exactly fit the Eater profile her mother had painted for her. This young man, this Prince and Eater, astounded her. She finally placed the proper name for that emotion, the brother of guilt, which kept twinkling in his gemstone eyes—sympathy. He cared that her body was deteriorating and she was scared. And, her certainty building, he didn't desire to cause her harm. He didn't exactly understand the situation she was in—the Hunt of Souls was a problem, but not the _only_ problem—but an Eater Prince as a protector…hinted towards many benefits.

Didn't she promise herself she would listen to her instincts? Hard to when some shouted run while others asked her to stay. With him. That seemed to be the majority vote.

The Eater eyed her apprehensively as Maka tilted her head and pursed her lips, the picture of someone thinking. It honestly was a clever strategy and, as a noble, he would be welcomed almost anywhere, which was another huge incentive. Her mind ran through possible difficulties. It would be hard to be subservient to someone even though it would be an act. It would be insanely hard to pretend like she was nothing but a package of skin, bone, and meat. But…she could do it. If she manipulated the Prince, perhaps she could get a chance to meet up with his brother…wait. Wait.

"…I'm willing to agree. But, I want your help with something."

He didn't hide his relief at her answer but offered a conspiratorial grin.

"I'm willing to listen. You'd most likely be helping me a lot more than I could ever help you."

Maka nodded as though accepting that burden in the deal. Internally, she smirked at how wrong he was.

_You don't know what you're talking about, cloud-boy._

He gestured towards her, a silent request to inform him of his duties in their contract.

"I assume that once the Hunt of Souls is completed, you will return to your home, correct?" His lips became a flat pink line and from his expressive eyes she knew he knew where she was going with this. He wasn't a fool. Her first words to him had been a direct threat meant for his brother.

The man nodded nonetheless and shakily tugged on the fluffy cloud attached to his head. Must be a worried tick. "When," Maka cringed a bit. "we arrive…I want some alone time with your brother. You will be responsible in setting up the interaction as well as keeping it secret. I promise not to mortally wound him. I simply want what was taken from me. If you can help further or have a better plan in acquiring the object, that's fine. But that is all I want. Should you agree to this, then I will agree to being 'bound' to you."

The Prince stared and Maka noticed the battle raging beneath his calm, collected gaze. Then, he stood; his decision made.

Maka's jaw dropped when he offered her a hand and it opened further when hers rose and slipped inside his grasp without her permission. The product of a treacherous body and foolish instincts no doubt. He lifted her to her feet, one arm thrown out and braced to steady her swaying form. Her skin felt warm where he touched her.

Once he was certain she wouldn't fall, he retreated a step. They remained connected by a hand each, her right and his right.

"Soul."

She blinked. "What?" He snorted and his left hand immediately latched onto the back of his neck. His tick.

"My name is Soul. We're going to be around each other for a while, figured we might as well know the other's name. Consider it the 'signing of the peace treaty.'"

Ah. That made sense. Regrettably. But Maka didn't have possessions, so she liked to hoard whatever she did have and she wasn't keen on sharing. Her name was a precious gift from parents she hardly recalled and it didn't sit well with her to give it to this man.

"…Call me whatever you want. So long as it's not 'the prize.' It's quite unoriginal. "

Soul smiled at her defensiveness, pointed teeth she somehow hadn't noticed until now glittering at her surprised face. He grasped her wrist tightly and twisted it vein up.

"What are yo-" There was a flash of light, a pop of electricity, and his index finger was a thin blade. Startled and with dread building, she tugged on her wrist. An animal caught in a hunter's trap.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid._

"Hush, _prize_." He clenched her bony wrist tighter and in a fast blurring motion, slid the blade under the gold band of the handcuffs and _cut _through the metal. The chains clanked loudly and symbolically as they hit the ground right in front of her dirty feet.

They sounded like freedom.

He hurriedly did this to the other slavery bracelet and Maka grinned at the repeated sound. She examined her freed appendages wordlessly before a smile danced across her face. It felt wrong and unnatural, but she couldn't stop it from making a short appearance.

"…My name is Maka."

* * *

"Will you please, for the love of Lord Mortis, quit with the complaining! We're almost to the diner, so that's when you can stuff yourself and I've explained the reasoning behind your attire. First off, no Eater is going to expect the prize to be dressed like, well, _that_. Second, those were the clothes laid out for you and I was _not _going to risk the wrath of Liz, Patty, or Tsubaki to find you something more comfortable." Soul groaned into the palm of his hand, wondering whether making a deal with a woman who controlled horses with whistles and roared at kishins was better or worse than making a deal with a devil. Hell, he wondered if she _was _a devil. It wouldn't surprise him.

_Maka_, as he continually reminded himself her name was, huffed in annoyance. "You're afraid of searching for more appropriate outfits belonging to your 'friends' for your charge, but have no fear potentially warding off furious Eaters from aforementioned charge." She peered up at him, eyebrows furrowed in exasperation. "You are ridiculous, Soul Eater."

"Stop calling me that!" Another groan passed his lips. Perhaps he shouldn't have given her hearty bread and some water to keep her from passing out. Carrying her would have been easier than dealing with her alternating personalities—one second, she was inquisitive and innocent and the next suspicious and snarky. "It's Soul. Or Prince Soulomon. Or I distinctly remember you calling me 'Your Highness,' which is also acceptable. 'Soul Eater' is not."

The small woman's mouth twitched and he knew she was forcefully withholding a grin. Soul didn't entirely understand her deal with displaying emotions that weren't disdain, annoyance, or ferocity, but he was grateful that she didn't have her glee spread across her face to further his misery.

"It fits you, though. You are an 'Eater of Souls' and your name is Soul. Thus, Soul Eater! I think it's terribly ingenious." He snorted in disdain.

Shit. She was already polluting him with her own emotions.

"It's not only mortifying, but dangerous. Keep crowing the word 'Eater' and we'll be surrounded by them before I have time to transform." His hands flew through the air in distressed motions. "Do you have any sense of self-preservation? Or do you enjoy the thrill of running for your life?"

_Uh, oh. There she goes with that face again…_

Though he had only known the prize for three days (and she had been unconscious for the majority of that time) Soul already recognized many of her facial expressions and telltales of her body. It wasn't normal to comprehend her because he had just met her. Hell, he didn't know anything about her other than her name, and she hadn't been exactly willing to give it up originally either. The Prince had a sinking suspicion that his natural reading of her had something to do with…whatever she had done to him. He figured 'running away' was tied to _that_, too, since her nose was scrunched, eyes hard and unwavering, and lips shaped like petals pressed tightly together. It was a semblance he was tired of recognizing, mainly because it communicated something along the lines of 'I'm not going to say anything so you better lay off' and 'I swear if you don't slam your mouth shut I'll shut it for you.'

Her gaze drifted to the scandalously short skirt she wore, apparently a nicer view than his searching glare, and fiddled with the hem as if hoping it would stretch if she tugged hard enough. She spoke without tension, carefully hiding her discomfort at his comment by offering one of her own. "This may be an improvement from my previous wear, but it's still too miniscule for actual comfort. With it and the blouse," She gently ran her fingers across her exposed abdomen. "I look like a Chupa Cabran whore."

Soul grinned and licked his lips. "Mmm-OW!"

"Look at me like that again and you won't be able to sire any princelings. Ever."

_Should've seen that coming..._

There was a shine in her green irises as she admired her handiwork. Soul massaged the sore area of his arm where her fist had careened into it and elbowed her. Maka hissed between her teeth and Soul immediately became apologetic. "I'm sorry! I forgot I cut you there." She waved off his concern, shirking away from his reach. She detested any help. Or maybe it was just his help she hated.

"It's a scratch and I heal faster than you'd expect. Besides, your neck is still bluish, so we're even." A fleeting grin blinded Soul before it disappeared back to wherever she hid them. He missed it for a second. She looked more like a female when she smiled. Otherwise, her feminine features were diminished by the blank expression she stubbornly held.

As he watched Maka discreetly from the corner of one lazy burgundy eye, it occurred to him she really wasn't anything special—in appearance. Too many unnatural happenings were tied to her for her to be anything ordinary. But, as a man appraising a woman, she wasn't as much as his first vision proclaimed. The girl was pretty in a simple manner, a manner that didn't call for much attention. Her best qualities were the long legs she begged the skirt to cover farther and the jewels residing where most people had eyes. There wasn't any ethereal humming around her anymore, nothing that should have captured or enamored him.

But Soul was very aware of the number of times he inspected her in his peripheral vision.

Their walk to the popular diner was uneventful (mostly), which Soul was entirely grateful to all gods for. It was rare to waltz this side of Spartoi without any trouble, unless part of a large group, and the Prince suspected that with the prize at his side the chances of trouble would increase exponentially. However, the singular problem was her constant twitches, eyes flickering from awe to paranoid as she inspected the buildings, roads, and contraptions of Spartoi.

It was obvious she'd never visited the roaring and inventive city as she couldn't stop glancing at everything in sight. From the high factories that spewed grey clouds into an otherwise cloudless sky to the cogs and gears and pipes connected to houses and establishments to the street lamps that shone with magic instead of fire, her eyes roved. The green took in each detail with equal parts disbelief and smitten adoration.

But add in her acute paranoia and she was a jumping, twitchy mess. Every now and then she would shove Soul inside alleys to hide from the crowds and the next second fly ahead to inspect something which would cause him to chase after her lest he lose her to the busy city.

He was more than pleased when he caught the blinking diner sign, the lights shining with witch magic welcoming him like an old friend. He belatedly realized that a trolley had passed by on the cobbled road to their right and Maka stood transfixed as the square carriage-sized piece of metal drifted past. Her wide eyes remained open and earnest, reminding him of a child.

"What was _that_?" Soul chuckled at her amazed tone. The high pitch and the two side tied clumps of hair drifting down listlessly made her look young and impressionable. Similar to Patty.

"That was one of the famous trolleys of Spartoi. Only exist in this city. To get around you either walk or ride one, which, before you ask, is why the horses are not with us. Animals aren't generally welcome in Spartoi." Maka blinked and nodded. Soul could envision her signing and storing the information in her mind like Kid did with official documents or notes from councils at his mansion in Corintholl. He had a room stacked with tottering piles constantly growing higher and higher each time Soul visited. Arranged symmetrically, of course.

"And how do they work?"

He slid into his characteristic smirk. "Magic."

She flinched and apparent displeasure caused her to grimace. For whatever reason, Maka had no qualms when it came to displaying her bitterness towards magic.

"Ah."

With a new stomp in her step, she pushed past him and entered the diner before Soul could grasp what had just transpired. He was almost confident he had seen 'that face' again.

_I should start counting how many times I see _that _rather than how many times I catch myself staring at her. Might find myself in a better mood._

Upon entrance to the well-to-do establishment, a raucous cry of 'Soul' noisily echoed from the back corner. Several heads turned in their direction branding them as inadvertent disturbers of the peace and Maka tensed in response to the attention. Soul reached to steady her with a hand but decided against it. He chose to explain in hushed tones that none of these people were after them, simply irked about the noise from his companions. Her scowl rebounded but she visibly relaxed as he ushered her to the table in the back where his disturbing party sat.

Black Star was howling especially loudly at the moment along with a chortling Patty, a combination that was both foreboding and comical. Kid's left eye was irritably twitching and both fists were pressed against the table. Soul swore he could see steam blowing out of the Duke's ears. Who knows what the two troublemakers did to him. Liz had one hand stretched towards Black Star and Patty in admonishment while the other rested on Kid's shoulder in an effort to keep him alive and well and out of a raging fit of asymmetrical angst. Tsubaki was the only one to acknowledge their arrival, a slender hand lifted welcomingly.

"Oh, good!" She smiled, navy eyes shining and raven hair swishing. "I'm so glad Black Star didn't kill you! Though you weren't able to witness it, I promise he was punished severely for it. I'm Tsubaki Nakatsukasa, by the way. Weapon partner of, well, Black Star." Said weapon extended a hand politely towards the frowning Maka, who Soul could tell was debating on staying and introducing herself or sprinting out the door and back to the streets. In the end, her hand drifted to meet Tsubaki's as if it were a frightened bird ready to fly at a moment's notice. The receiver of these nerves pretended they didn't show and simply warmed her initial smile, something Soul was eternally grateful for. At the very least, Tsubaki would help him with Maka.

"S'not entirely my fault, Tsubaki. She was screaming loud enough to wake the dead, not to mention sleeping kishins and bandits. Rather than sit and wonder as you mortals were, I acted. And as a god, my actions are never wrong! Hah!" He peered curiously at Maka, distracted from his "godly" tirade. His eyes wandered dangerously up and down her figure before he grinned lecherously at Soul. "Princess grew up to be a Prince finally, eh? How much was this harlot anyways? I hope you didn't spend all our gambling money on her since she barely has any,er, curves, if you get what I'm saying."

Maka spluttered hysterically, emeralds alight with rage. She threw a glower at Soul whose retort was not quick enough for her tastes before reaching for something on a nearby table and chucking it at Black Star's face. There was a slam and the crunch of cartilage snapping under pressure as a heavy book bounced off its target.

"Harlot! No curves! Humph. I'm not a harlot, you imbecile! And perhaps, if I let you live, you will learn better than to insult me _or_ incapacitate me!" The ruffled blonde crossed her arms with an unrepentant pout and a satisfactory gleam emitted from olive hues.

A pregnant pause hovered over the table, the singular sound of Black Star groaning and wiping away blood from his nose the only thing keeping the area from complete silence, until Liz started laughing earnestly. "Oh, Lord Mortis," She wiped a few tears from the seam of each eye. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that! I'm Elizabeth Thompson, markswoman of York." Liz poked a still predominately giggly Patty on her left. "And this is Patricia Thompson, my younger sister and also a markswoman of York. But please, call us Liz and Patty. Our birth names are too nice for the jobs we've handled."

Maka studied her curiously, eventually jerking her head down in assent. It was her hand that was offered this time, a gesture Soul took notice of. "I am Maka and I am sorry for my comment, um, I guess two days ago."

Liz waved a hand carelessly as if warding off a fly. "Not necessary. I would've said the same thing. Besides, you more than made up for it by smashing the face in of our least favorite 'god.'" She quirked a thumb in the moaning Black Star's direction, who was sloppily pulling himself up from the floor, for emphasis.

"Holy shit, woman! Who the hell tries to defeat the great Black Star with a book?"

Her scathing reply was faster than a weapon's transformation. "Worked, didn't it?"

The assassin growled, obviously not pleased with their new addition, but was quieted by a stern look from Tsubaki.

Kid watched the exchanges as one watched a theater performance—with a knowing glint. Soul had the feeling Kid saw more from the situation and from Maka than the rest of them did. As if he already knew the plot to their particular story. He reacted when his turn came politely and naturally, though Soul sensed his strategic speculation of the girl.

"I am Kiddrik von Mortis, Duke of Corintholl. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance despite the extenuating circumstances tied to it, Maka…?"

The Eater Prince thought he witnessed a hint of recognition, but as he peered closer he could glimpse nothing but a similar studiousness lighting the springtime backdrop of her eyes.

"Just Maka."

He hummed in approval though amber orbs made no effort to hide his suspicion and motioned towards the two empty chairs. "Soul. Maka. Why not sit? We've already ordered a short meal and will eat a more filling supper at the inn later on. Patricia, Elizabeth, and Tsubaki have expressed their desire to gallivant around the city and I deduced Maka would enjoy the opportunity to search for clothes that…fit her better. Black Star, you, and I can go and speak with Kilik and his crew concerning any rumors we'd need to be wary about."

Liz snorted at Kid's formal use of her name, but was pleased with the imminent shopping planned for the females of the group. Black Star shrugged, not really caring what they did so long as the 'peasant,' his new pet name for Maka, didn't chuck anymore reading materials at his fractured nose. Patty gesticulated wildly as she brought up her bet with Tsubaki and how she had won it, thus requiring them to stop at the Spartoi's collection of animals sometime this evening.

Soul chivalrously offered Maka her chair, although one would assume he was asking her to sit on a chair of nails from the tense expressions flitting across her face. She eventually settled in at the table due to the stares from his friends. He noticed her back was straighter than any noble's and her fists clenched and unclenched atop her thighs, probably not comfortable with facing the wall. In an effort to keep the young woman from having a fit that would rival Kid's (which was an impressive feat), Soul asked Tsubaki if she minded trading places with Maka, an action that everyone pretended not to care about. She shyly met his eyes after she moved, a different sheen covering them that the Prince realized was a sign of thankfulness. He smirked.

The food arrived a couple of minutes after their entrance, a miracle that Soul swore he'd properly thank the gods for since Black Star had taken a cruel interest in questioning the tight-lipped Maka. Luckily for him, the ammunition she originally used was nowhere in sight and currently there weren't any other books within her reach, so there was no chance of immediate retaliation. Soul had the feeling that as soon as she could she would stock up on the objects and carry one at all times to prevent this situation from ever occurring again.

They ate eagerly, each person hungry in their own way although none could rival that of Maka and Black Star's appetites. The newcomer watched carefully before dishing her portion and feeding herself through dainty nibbles. Soul got the distinct impression that she had not participated in social protocols, such as table manners, for quite some time. Her first plate held the same amount of food as Liz and Tsubaki's; the Prince guessed she thought that was the "acceptable" lady portion-size. But as soon as Tsubaki assured her she could eat to her heart's content and chuck manners to the wind, the small woman-child started shoveling anything that could fit into her mouth.

Liz and Tsubaki worriedly whispered to the other, noting her thin form and desperation as women do. Once or twice Soul caught Liz glaring at him, as though _he _was the one who had denied her necessities. The Eater could already tell they were making plans to "adopt" her and take her under their wings, an idea that sprang into motion the instant Soul offhandedly mentioned the deal between him and the prize. Kid was the only one to comment on the information, his "approval" of their decision losing some of its intensity when paired with his blank look and monotone speech.

"That's wonderful. In fact, that's probably the best news we'll hear all day. Now I can assist you without the fear of being banished from my own homestead. Simply marvelous. Really, Soul, this was an excellent choice, I have no doubt. Besides, she is symmetrical. It would be a shame for you to have ruined her."

Maka was too busy eating her own weight (probably more than that) in meat, bread, and carefully stewed vegetables so she didn't catch Soul's response.

"Oh, yeah, promising my life for the next Lord-Mortis-knows-when to a scrawny female with a violent streak is the greatest, Kid. I can't wait to bring her home and introduce her to mom and dad."

After they had consumed their fill (Soul and Tsubaki halted Maka as they worried she may eventually become ill from such a full belly), the party of anomalies exited the diner and plotted their "free day" in Spartoi. Kid insisted that they set aside time to visit Kilik and some others despite Soul's adamant refusal. In truth, he too desired a meeting with the eccentric group of Spartoi dwellers, but one glance at Maka's pale skin and he figured she was having trouble adjusting to people, cities, and freedom in general. Entering a rowdy wolves' den just might be the catalyst that sends her running for the hills or into a psychotic rampage. Her fragile, delicate appearance aside, Soul couldn't rid himself of the knowledge that to escape his castle she had fought and bested two weapons and later had given his face and neck a vicious pounding.

And a dull flutter in his lower abdomen warned the hunter inside that, as the prized prey should, she contained many more tricks up her sleeves.

Thank Lord Mortis the shirt she was wearing actually _had _sleeves now.

_Don't think about that Soul. The situation is precarious enough without being attracted to a girl that would sooner castrate you then utter her name._

So by unanimous results, they chose to fulfill Patty's "need" to play with the animals in the hopes that an easygoing atmosphere would benefit the uneasy, fidgeting Maka. The group was contentedly drifting down the uneven sidewalk in a simple manner that the she-demon had never experienced. Soul trusted that his female friends would relax her better than any Eater, glaring noble, or assassin could, so he mindlessly separated from her side, unaware that out of all the persons there he was the closest she came to trusting. No one fully understood how restless and worried the prize was until she snapped. Liz was poking her every few seconds, joking at her expense, when the shorter girl recoiled so suddenly that as a reflex the markswoman reached for a pistol on her hip.

Soul knew what would happen next.

Liz's hand stopped before her fingers could brush against the gun, a dazed wild gleam lighting her eyes…locked in place by furious green tidal waves. Both females were breathing heavily when Maka turned away, palms pressed over her face. She moaned as Liz blinked furiously, eyebrows practically hopping off her face.

"What in the _hell_ just-"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." A throaty noise poured out of her mouth. "It's a reaction. I knew you weren't going to shoot me, but that-it-I-ugh."

Kid rushed forward with golden rounds staring bullets at the crouched prize. "Liz, are you alright? What-?"

"It's nothing."

Everyone silently stood, appraising the situation until, as Tsubaki originally predicted at the table, Maka hastily rushed into a nearby alley to regurgitate the contents of her stomach. Soul briefly entertained the notion that she'd take the chance to escape. But Maka returned with her bottom lip clenched in between her teeth.

And for whatever reason, Liz steered the conversation away from the unusual occurrence with none, except for Soul, having any clue what transpired. The sassy blonde slung her arm around Maka's shoulders, ignoring her flinches, and promised her a new meal soon. She then proceeded to drag her to several shop windows while explaining the beauty of being a woman with male companions that happened to carry heavy bags. Soul and the others had no choice but to follow Liz's lead in direction through the city as well as to pretend the last couple of minutes never existed.

"What does that mean?"

"Oh, honey, you've been under a rock this whole time, haven't you? It means that they've got the gold."

Maka didn't respond to her explanation. Eventually Patty sidled her way to her usual post—stuck to her elder sister's side. She talked animatedly with Maka, acting like she didn't mind whatever happened to Liz, though Soul did catch the curious question she posed to the older Thompson every now and then. These glances caused Liz to overenthusiastically explain certain aspects of Spartoi like the clock towers or the brass piping, effectively silencing her bubbly sister.

"So, what you're saying is that everything works on its own? Without anyone doing anything?" Maka tilted her head barely to the right, her mouth contorted in a part frown-part pucker.

"Well, I'm sure someone does _something _to keep things running, like making sure the clocks are on time or ensuring everyone's getting heat in their homes and stuff like that. But, for the most part, people build it. People use it. And the magic does all the work." Liz sheepishly grimaced as she wasn't particularly the most knowledgeable of the group and was unused to someone looking to her for information. Most knew better than to ask her questions.

"…And no one starts fires during the winter to keep warm?"

"Nope! It's all done with steam, magic, and, if you're rich enough, wavelength stones." The honeyed blonde grinned, glad she finally had a question she could answer with the certainty that she was correct. Until her "pupil" asked the inevitable-

"What are those?"

"Uh, well, I don't _exactly_ know how to explain them. I mean, they're kind of like-well, they're sort of these…not really 'magic' rocks, but special definitely. A lot of researchers believe they hold an infinite supply of power, so they're pretty expensive and surprisingly really, really tiny. Almost more chips than rocks. And they're so rare I've never seen one up close. I don't even think Kid owns one. But I've heard it confirmed that they're only found in Adalon. Traders from across the seas had no idea they existed and have never seen anything like them. I'm pretty sure they're mainly mined along Death City and the Grigori forest, but there's also a couple 'hotspots' around Spartoi, Overlijden, Helen, Mordenar, Gewe, and…I don't remember any more...I don't know much about the topic to be honest." Maka hummed in reply.

The naïve girl they doted on seemed particularly interested in the mechanics of everything—she had never dared to imagine that something could move on its own with merely metal wheels spinning together. Soul saw several moments where the corners of her mouth would inch upwards before returning to their steadfast midway position. Of course, the second "magic" was mentioned and she had no qualms about letting her lips fall into a frown. She also wordlessly examined the people around them, no doubt inquiring softly to herself how such a city could exist. Soul had wondered it himself many times.

Infernodants and Corinthollans shared drinks at bars. Islanders from Sorne and Chupa Cabran prostitutes from the North admired and discussed wares at different shops together. Assassins marked with a star scar joked shamelessly with Yorksmen carrying rifles lax in their grip, a sight never seen except for here as usually the two kinds were at one another's throats. Spartoi truly was one of a kind. It was perhaps one of the only cities that encouraged interactions between the different nationalities and, maybe because of the amount of magic in the area, they did interact.

It was a surprise, and not necessarily a happy one, when energetic, devious Patty and violent, on-edge Maka became more than mere acquaintances in a number of hours. The only good that came out of the newly-found sisterhood was the fact that Maka settled down. The glances she threw over her shoulder slowed from seven times each minute (Soul had to hold Kid back from begging her to make it eight) to ten times every five minutes to a detailed inspection of their surroundings almost on the hour.

But progress was progress and Soul was more grateful now than ever for his female companions. They had, in the strange way that only women can, quieted the gale of the fractured young girl with severe "people are chasing me" issues. In fact, Maka was so calm she hardly murmured a word when the giggling girls and boys laden with numerous objects shuffled her onto a trolley for the ride back to the inn.

She squirmed into a velvet window seat, her eyes alternating from eagerly taking in the details of the city to memorizing the features of the passengers on the noisy, tottering vehicle. Soul shuffled into the seat next to her. Slowly. It didn't stop her from leaning away and ensuring at least three inches separated his thigh from hers.

_She acts like I'm poisonous or something._

Which, if one counted the Eater's madness, he supposed he was.

He contentedly watched her eyes aimlessly search the roads they passed, people, machines, and buildings all cramped together into a colorful, never-ending blur. Soul soon found himself lost in his own scrutiny of Spartoi. He loved this place. Sure, it was rough around the edges—well, actually rough inside the edges, too—but, it had its own unique, chaotic beauty and within its walls there were no restrictions. A house painted a painfully bright neon pink was scrunched up against the neighboring home colored a striped pattern of grey and tan brown. And that was the norm. That was acceptable. What the majority of the world condemned, Spartoi spread its arms wide open to accept. It was a mess. An asymmetrical mess, like Kid said. But in the Prince's mind, it contained an exotic appearance that no other could replicate. Of course, the most breathtaking sight was-

"Oh would you look at the beautiful symmetry! Even though this despicable town is so filthy and disjointed and, and comprisedof such illogical patterns and not organized at all at least-"

"Why don't you spit it out, Kid? Seriously. We get it. You like symmetry."

"Yeah, Kid! Spill,spill!"

"As if any place can be disgusting with the mighty Black Star gracing it with his god-like presence!"

Maka and Soul twisted to obtain a glimpse of the brewing fight until the ashy blonde caught through the opposite window the object of Kid's (and secretly Soul's) admiration. She immediately hopped over Soul, careful not to touch him, and clamored past the others to press her face against the glass. Jade orbs expanded beyond human limits glimmered from the sun's reflection off brass and copper and panes of glass. Soul and Liz called out for her, but Kid reached her side before them, eager to fawn over symmetry with a fellow intrigued individual. Though most of his actions towards her had been hostile until now.

"Lovely, isn't? Such extraordinary symmetry. That is the most tolerable and precious thing Spartoi has to offer."

Maka's head dipped mutely. She sat transfixed, memorizing the curves, slopes, and aged runic scenery of Spartoi's Library and forgetting to slouch away from the barely known person beside her.

The tiered building was expansive, spanning an area large enough to build possibly six "royal" houses. It rose out of the ground in a pyramidal structure, tapering to a sharp point aimed at the sky as though the constructors hoped that standing at the top would allow one to stretch out and reach god. Carvings of pictures depicting things no one had a name for wrapped around the sides. In between each great scene constructed was a ribbon of symbols, their steadfast grace continuing in a never-ending pattern that would repeat itself until the end of Adalon.

Kid continued as he shooed Soul's annoyed grimace and Liz's frustrated snarl away. The Duke made it quite clear in barely concealed remarks throughout their touring that he suspected Maka of…something. He hadn't been very forthcoming in explaining his aggressive nature towards her, but his two bodyguards, and Tsubaki and Soul, understood that something had been plaguing him.

What annoyed the Infernodant was that he wouldn't share. It was a constant battle to keep Maka from fleeing or from drawing too much attention to herself (he discovered she had a tendency to yell louder than a kishin roar when provoked) and Kid's open frustrations did not help matters.

And he thought maintaining peace between nations was hard…obviously Lord Mortis had never attempted prying Maka's bony frame off of Black Star after an especially insulting comment.

The Prince had been sure he could have counted on the girls…and Kid. He assumed the only difficulties with his plan to strike a deal with the wild child would have lied with Black Star. But, oh no. _Both_ his male friends chose his"charge" to find displeasure with.

A charge they knew he had to protect if he was to make it out of this hunt alive.

Well, on a positive note it looked like Kid was warming up to her now.

So where was the rest of the annoyance coming from?

"Yes, the Library is certainly beautiful. I have had the prestigious satisfaction of examining every inch of the structure and it is _perfectly _symmetrical on the inside _and _outside! Supposedly, the Resonators built it for something or other. A thing to be proud of for sure. It's beauty and knowledge contained within is why Spartoi was originally the first capital city of Adalon."

Maka's lips lazily opened, too focused on drinking the impressive image in to respond with her usual enthusiasm. "You're wrong."

"Hmm?"

"Spartoi wasn't Adalon's first capital city."

Kid's head cocked to the side and in the background Soul and Liz's did, too, as the trolley swerved left into a vacant street. Maka sighed somberly as the Library was whisked out of view, hidden behind the less elegant added architecture of ringing bells, smoggy pipes, and rusted creations of Spartoi.

* * *

Crumbling. Dying. Continued grace despite the surrounding chaos around it. Maka couldn't remove the sparkling Library from her mind. Her feet moved on autopilot, eyes unfocused on the brown-stoned sidewalk.

Patty's extremely girly giggles caused her to become more aware of what was going on around her, neck cracking with the speed her head ascended at. Soul who had been silently, give or take a few petulant yawns, walking beside her nudged her gently with an elbow. Maka pretended he wasn't being courteous by avoiding her bandaged injury (Tsubaki's handiwork) but claimed mere coincidence.

She also made an extreme effort to pretend to forget that the last couple of times he'd done that to vie for her attention she hadn't recoiled. It didn't mean anything. And if it did…

Benefits and initial instincts aside, Maka was beginning to wonder whether remaining with this uncomplimentary team of adults was truly a wise decision. In a day, not even a full day, she felt free and comfortable in their space. And that was a mistake. She knew that was a mistake.

But…

_I have that urge to smile again…_

"What's the matter?"

She scowled. "Nothing of your concern, Eater."

His voice sank several octaves lower. He was mad. Or…frustrated was a better term. "Are you serious? This _again_. I am kind and call you by your name. Be nice if _someone_ repeated the kindness."

Maka sniffed and haughtily tossed some strands of hair over her shoulder, an action she unconsciously picked up from Liz to communicate annoyance. Intensely hot coals bore into her and were not impressed. But before she had mustered up the will to break away from the red depths he broke their contact.

"Whatever. But don't be shocked if I start referring to you as "the prize" from here on out."

The "prize" was preparing a comeback, an impressive one as well, when Black Star's shriek rattled her brain. Her heart raced, vision blurred. The young girl slid into the beginnings of a fighter's stance when Soul's chuckles caused her to pause. She followed the Eater Prince's line of sight and was proud and pleased to witness Patty's foot retreating from where Black Star's legs connected.

The other adults did nothing to stifle the laughter bubbling out of somewhere deep and wondrous inside of them like Maka did. Tsubaki was sheepish and, between giggles, wondered if Black Star was alright. Liz and Patty's hands met in the air, an echoing slap bouncing off with a metallic ring in the rebound from the machinery around them. Kid shook his head, continuing to mumble on about hurrying to the inn because the lack of symmetrical surroundings was wounding him physically though a brief grin was seen for a split second. And Soul leaned to the side, towards _her_, a large hand resting on a slender shoulder as laughter shook his lean frame. He carelessly shared a genuine serrated smile with her and the blonde didn't stand a chance. Her cheeks pinching in an unfamiliar manner, an abrupt sparkle of teeth was revealed to the Infernodant whose strong appendage transferred pleasant heat to her pale skin.

"Can't believe we missed whatever Star did to deserve such a drastic punishment."

_CLANG_

The unbearable loud and grating noise from the right had Soul joining the frightened prize as her body naturally molded into a stance his Infernodant weapon teacher would have been immensely impressed with. Neither later could distinguish whose face openly poured out the most shock when the noisemaker slinked into view.

A risqué-ly clad woman with hair a violet so dark it could rival the color of the nighttime sky leaped out of an alleyway and in between the two, ample chest thrust out towards the male as if her breasts themselves were secretly weapons. She spread her arms wide with Maka trapped behind her, the younger woman's back against the wall, and orange-yellow eyes flickered dangerously like witch's magic in a streetlamp at Soul.

Maka could see the woman quivering, her taut and well-shaped thighs blurring around the edges along with the muscles of her shoulder blades clenching and unclenching, in what she presumed was fear. And who wouldn't be afraid when Prince Soul "Eater" Evans was glaring vicious ruby daggers at said person? Nonetheless, the curvaceous beauty refused to back down and Maka admitted silently to herself that such a display of fearlessness was noteworthy. She had congratulated herself in the confines of her own mind several times when she was able to keep up the "I'm not scared of a man who could take my soul" façade. A high syrupy sweet voice pulled her from her reverie when it shouted out-

"Stay back, Eater! You won't be touching her under my watch-nyah!"

And now…now, as the cold biting terror of being shoved into brick by someone she didn't know and the words of the stranger ringing in her ears, Maka was…confused. And from the slight angle of Soul's twinkling eyebrows, although his glare refused to waver, she thought it safe to assume he was as well.

Maka nimbly dashed under an arm, aiming to return to her previous spot beside Soul. She had never heard of female Eaters, but she knew better than most that anomalies in Adalon were not uncommon. The woman pouted worriedly and her eyes widened to enormous sunny globes when she saw the smaller girl in front of her rather than behind. If an onlooker chose to take a walk down this very street at the moment, they might assume from the stranger's horrified expression that _she _was the victim instead of the short girl with hands raised for battle and the tall albino male with teeth bared in annoyance.

"Oh my Adalon! Your soul…he took-oh Adalon, no!" She glided effortlessly forward and, ignoring Soul altogether at this point, grabbed Maka's shoulders. Eyes too bright pinned her with a stare empowered by something…indescribable. Maka, from a distance, felt nails digging into flesh as the purple-haired woman shook her. "Tell me he didn't steal your soul! Tell me he didn't _Eat _your soul! Maka, wake up! Snap out of it! You can't let this happen! Maka-nyah!"

She heard Soul growl an indistinct phrase that may or may not have included "I'll kill you" and "let her go." Whatever he said, it no longer had an effect on the woman with a bosom housing two watermelons. Her personality seemed to undergo a complete turnaround as she latched blazing lanterns on him and furiously snarled, shaking Maka all the while.

"How _dare_ you, you filthy beast! You have no idea-you just don't get-ugh! You'll kill me? Bu-tan doesn't think so! Bu-tan will kill _you_ for taking Maka's soul!"

Soul's eyebrows stretched towards the Heavens for the third, or maybe the fourth, time that day at this new development. Maka also felt hers pull to unbelievable heights and stared curiously at the unknown person trying to "save" her soul. Her attitude became a little more logical as Maka noted a black tattoo in the smoky globular shape of an uneven horned creature resting on the woman's hip.

The brand.

She had expected to be recognized by those yearning to _hunt _her, but it never crossed her mind that someone, especially another unfortunate immolation of the Hunt of Souls, might be searching for her to _help_ her. Though it probably was another Eater's plot to lull her into a false sense of security and separate her from Soul. Maybe even a witch's. Yeah. That was a thousand times more likely.

And yet…

That black ogre, marring once flawless flesh, mocked her.

This woman…and she…were the same. Prey. And that was a bond stronger than many others. The prize didn't have to reach out and examine the woman's soul to feel her overwhelming protectiveness.

"Hey! Hey, there!" Maka returned the lady's vice-like grip with a strong strangle-hold of her own, immediately gaining the attention of painfully glaring suns. "He didn't Eat my soul! I'm still me in here, so please calm down before we gain the attention of unsavory folk. He's…a good Eater. Helping me and all that. He won't hurt you either."

Holy Adalon, if the woman's eyes were radiant, her answering smile was a seductive extravagance reserved for angels. Or demons…depending on the nature of her seduction.

"Maka-nyah!" The startled girl found herself suffocating between soft, jiggling mounds of womanly attributes as she was hugged tightly. "Bu-tan thought you were gone for good! And then it would've been all bad and dark-nyah! And Bu-tan wouldn't have gotten any milk or cream because she failed in her duties, which would've made her sad."

"Soul? What's going on?" The low hum of Black Star, apparently recovered and back to normal male pitch, interrupted "Bu-tan's" molestation. Obviously, their companions were alerted to some of the disturbance. "Who is thi-? Woah, that's some nice, um. Wow." Maka's hearing was muffled from being pressed against flesh but somehow still caught the whistle and crack of a slap she quite rudely hoped had landed on Black Star's face. Judging by the sudden yelp and the still submissive "humph," Tsubaki's palm must've met its intended target.

Someone, though she was almost positive it was Soul, forcefully removed her from the voluptuous and affectionate stranger's embrace. Maka hated to admit it, but after experiencing suffocation via a woman's chest she felt a prickle of guilt for choking Soul the other day. Lack of air was painful…although as she cynically observed Soul and Black Star's intrigued leers, she mused that he might not mind death by asphyxiation if it meant being where Maka had been.

_Men…_

"Bu-tan" whined at the extraction and glared balefully, yet sexily, at the Eater who placed Maka behind him and out of her view.

"Give her back! Maka shouldn't be with _you _and your kind! She needs protection. And she needs to come with me." She cocked her hip and head to the side, vainly attempting to gaze through Soul in order to glimpse her desired individual.

By now Liz, Patty, and Kid flanked Soul with Black Star and Tsubaki behind. Their ordered shape kept Maka surrounded on all sides, a thought which had her both panicked and relieved simultaneously. In the end, Maka's curiosity was caught in the other sacrifice's imploring gestures, an uncomfortable pit forming in her stomach. Suddenly, the shiny sun stones searching for her and the envy she held for the lovely woman seemed familiar…as if her emotions were old and gone, but came again in a ghostly memory as the source of them reappeared.

She replicated a movement done not five minutes ago, this time ducking out and under Soul's arm and halting at the woman in indigo.

"Maka-"

A raised hand hushed the Prince's objection. Maka, incredibly aware of her audience, sauntered closer to the beauty that erupted from the alley until she stood close enough to smell the scum and dirt clinging to her ratty dress along with another, more pleasant scents. An ocean breeze. Warm fur. The comparably stick-thin blonde tilted her head back so that the taller woman met her jaded gaze.

"How do you know my name?" Maka hesitantly poked the tattoo on the other's left hip. "I know what that means but, though it offers a compelling explanation towards your attempt to 'save' me from an Eater, it does not provide excuse for the knowledge you possess. So. How do you know my name?"

There was silence and stillness and all manner of things. Challenges and questions crisscrossed through the air, hazily drifting from radiant orange light to unforgiving emerald stones like the smog of Spartoi into the atmosphere. Neither budged, though one had good reason to, and neither relinquished their hold on their counterpart. Bodies danced and swayed behind them, an assemblage of people who knew and did not know what they had stumbled upon.

Finally, Blair spoke.

"Oh, silly Maka. If Blair knows _what _you are, it only makes sense she knows _who_ you are-nyah."

The pit in Maka's abdomen exploded, fire racing through dull blue veins.

_If Blair knows _what _you are…_

It was inevitable, really, that someone eventually would find her.

* * *

**Last Little Whatever: **Yes, yes, we _still_ don't know what Maka is (and by "we" I mean Soul and the gang...cause the rest of us have guessed it) and we won't for a little while longer. Bear with me. They have to endure some stuff first. Also, due to the craziness of my schedule this semester I'm going to go ahead and warn that the next chapter might not be out until about a month (sorry sorry sorry), but I'll try (and I will try) to get it out sooner. The good (?) news is that I don't know if you've noticed, but each chapter gets just a wee bit longer than the one before. I wonder when I'll bottom out on chapter length...*shrugs* Love you all! Make good choices!

-D Taylor


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